Commando's Legacy
by JadeDragon220
Summary: Sequel story to Legend of Commando. It's been five years. Commando, an eighteen year old ex-criminal, is struggling to balance personal life and her career as a vigilante. When ghosts from her past come back to haunt her and a new danger threatens to destroy everything she loves, she has to make a decision. But will it be the right one? OC, summary may change later on.
1. Surveillance

I know...Should be finishing Legally Insane. Believe me, I _know_. Buuuuuut, I saw Depths and couldn't get this out of my head. Aaaand a lot of people asked me about a sequel to Legend of Commando, so here it is.

Wasn't gonna post this today, but hey, it's Father's Day and I meant to write a fanfiction for today...but obviously that didn't happen. **Any suggestions are welcome, because I have _no idea_ where I'm taking this. And the 'new threat?' no clue. :/**

If you haven't read Legend of Commando (It's 43 chapters long, so I'm not demand that you go read it) here's a quick run-down of who Commando is: Her real name is Jill Jackson. has two younger half-siblings named Dakota and Tyler. She joined Young Justice when she was thirteen, giving up a life of crime to become a hero. Any questions about her, just ask :)

* * *

_**-Commando's Legacy-**_

_**Chapter One: Surveillance**_

It's nights like tonight that make me regret my career as a crime-fighter.

I perched myself on the edge of a skyscraper, silent as death, and surveilled the sprawling expands of a city below me. My legs dangled over the side of the massive building, absently swinging back and forth as I swept my misty gaze over the complex labyrinth of concrete and skyscrapers that was Blüdhaven. A bird, a robin I think, fluttered down from somewhere up above and landed beside me, pecking furiously at a pebble. I chuckled at the moronic bird, feeling a little grateful towards it for being able to make me laugh.

I observed the city laid out before me, struggling to sort out all the catatonic emotions and thoughts that had been threatening to overwhelm me for the past three days. Or was it four... Truth be told I had lost track of time after the first day or so. Who cared about the date at a time like this? My whole world was crumbling down around me and I didn't know how to make it stop. People that were once friends have become enemies. The strongest of us all has been laid to rest.

And on top of all that...old, bitter feelings that I thought I had moved past were coming back to haunt me. I knew it was stupid, and immature. But when I showed up in the Cave and saw Batgirl curled up in Nightwing's arms, seeking comfort in the young hero's embrace...

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to burn the image from my mind. It still wasn't working...If anything, it was just making it harder to forget. I know I have bigger problems to worry about: kind, level-headed Kaldur has turned traitor. Artemis, the girl I thought of as the kickass big sister I never had is...gone. _Forever_. And the League is drastically stretched thin now that most of their powerhouses are out on a playdate with E.T. I was vehemently against the idea from the beginning, and I still am. If Earth is attacked now, we are going to be _hilariously_ out-gunned. All the drama was starting to get too intense...

A part of me found it easier to indulge in my infantile emotions. Just so I could pretend that I was a teenager again, the team was still together, and I was sitting in my room thinking up ways to make Zatanna dissapear in the middle of the night instead of trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do now that the whole world's gone nuts. I want to ask Dick for help, and I've even gotten to the point where I've had the phone in my hand and started to punch in Dick's number, but...

Dick...It was so long ago. I know...I should let it go. Let _him_ go. But even now, especially now, the memory of what happened on New Years five years ago is as cutting and hard to accept as it was back then. Needless to say, I don't really enjoy watching Nightwing flirt with a girl, _any_ girl.

So after I got an eyeful of Batgirl/Nightwing fluff, I went to visit Wally in Palo Alto to offer my comfort and support to my old pal. In the end, he ended up comforting me more than I comforted him. He was a good friend, understanding and sweet. It's no wonder Artemis fell head over heels on love with him. But as bad as Artemis had it, Wally had it _a lot_ worse. I was always kind of jealous of them, in a way. Dick and I started out just like them: Bickering, snarking, _hateful. _And yet...they were able to move past that, and make their relationship work. After five years, they were still been going strong. They were living together, they had their own house together - they had a _dog_, for god's sake.

Nightwing and I never quite made it past the 'bickering and snarking' phase, even after we were 'officially' a couple. Maybe...maybe if I hadn't been so shy. Maybe if I had let Dick tell the team we were a couple..Then Zatanna would never have kissed him. And the we wouldn't have broken up. And...and we'd be as happy as Wally and Ary are..._were_.

I know that it's selfish to think like that, but I can't help it.

And besides, _everyone_ was jealous of them and their freaking _perfect_ relationship. They were so good together, despite - or maybe because of - their rocky beginnings. But now...now Wally has lost his love, his _Spitfire_. And it's all Kaldur's fault.

I know that losing a loved one is hard. I've had it happen to me, one too many times. I know how the loss can destroy a person by rotting them from the inside out. I know it can make someone act irrational, even impulsive. And I know... I know that Kaldur loved Tula. I've known it since the moment the pretty Atlantean with the red hair and aqua eyes appeared in the Cave, wrapped securely in the arms of the handsome, raven-haired Tempest. I know that the pain of loss is often enough to drive even the calmest person over the edge. But...to kill Artemis, who had never hurt Kaldur in any conceivable way, was unforgivable.

A few bitter, angry tears rolled down my cheeks. Angry at myself, I swiped them away with the back of my hand and ordered myself to knock it off and get a grip. I'm supposed to be a commando. And commandos _don't_ cry. Not where anyone can see them, at least. I bent one of my legs and hugged it to my chest, using it to prop up my weary head as I surveyed the city. _My_ city.

If you thought Gotham is bad, think again. Blüdhaven's crime rate is about ten times worse, especially now that the Dynamtic Duo and Nightwing have significantly decreased the amount of criminal activity in Gotham. But no one besides me seemed to care about Blüdhaven. No one bothered to check up on the poor people that live here. It's gotten better now that I'm watching over Blüdhaven, but with the alien drama and G. Gordan Douchebag making everyone cautious of anybody in spandex...it hasn't been easy.

"Commando." A voice rasped in my ear.

I jumped to my feet, startled. I stumbled over my own feet and for one brief, horrifying moment I was falling backwards off the edge of the roof; arms flailing and cloak billowing out behind me, I let out a tiny, girlish squeak of surprise and fear. A hand shot out, catching hold off the front of my cloak and yanking me back to safety. My unknown rescuer didn't seem to know his own strength because the next thing I know I have my face buried in a firm, muscular chest and two strong arms wrapped securely around my body. My hands, that had reflexively shot upwards to catch my fall, were now clasping my hero's broad shoulders. I pushed away from him, just enough so I could see his face...and promptly let out a scream.

I'd been expecting Superboy, who usually came to check up on me while I was patrolling Blüdhaven at Nightwing's insistence. Or maybe Red Arrow, who I had grown close to after I helped him get married - secretly, of course - to Artemis's nutjob of a sister. I didn't approve, obviosuly, but he loved her. She loved him. They were good together, and besides, I think the guy deserves a break after all that has happened to him. But no such luck, because apparently the universe jusg loves messing with me. I was now standing in the arms of the pride and joy of Gotham: _Nightwing_.

He held me steady with one hand on the small of my back, using the other to fix my cloak that had fallen down past my shoulder. I felt my ears turn bright pink as I gave him a nervous smile and tried to wriggle out of his grasp. I prayed Nightwing didnt notice my blush, but when I saw the smirk that spread across the young hero's face, I realized that my luck is worse than I previously thought.

"Don't sneak up on people like that!" I responded the way I always did when it came to Dick, aggressively.

"Hey, it's not my fault. You didn't used to be so jumpy." He chuckled.

"What do you want, Nightwing?" I said curtly, wondering when we had become so formal.

"You usually check in with the Cave every evening to report on the criminal activity in Blüdhaven. No one has heard from you since...you visited Wally in Palo Alto."

"And?"

"And you're _never_ that inconsiderate. I got worried." His expression softened.

"So I can't forget to report in every once in awhile? Your mentor has been known to disappear for months on end, _Dickie_, and I'm not allowed to be off the radar for a few days?" I know I was being unnecessarily mean, but it was easier to argue than to ponder why he seemed so concerned about my well-being. No, just _no_. I won't don't that to myself again. Not again, not right now.

"He's Batman, _Jilly_, I know that I don't have to worry about him. You, on the other hand, are slightly less reliable." He frowned.

I bit my tongue to keep myself from saying something I'll regret later.

"Come on, Nightwing. I've been busy...with Blüdhaven and my career." I began, forcing myself to be rational and not slap the fuck out of the moron in black leather standing in front of me.

"Commando...you're a babysitter." He arched an eyebrow at me.

"I am a live-in nanny, thank you very much." I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

"_Exactly_! You graduated Gotham Academy with high honors, you have a good 3.4 billion dollars just _waiting_ for you in the bank, and you have colleges pratically _begging_ you to go to their schools! You could literally do anything and everything you want, and yet you've chosen to play nursemaid to Aquaman's son..."

"I'm a _hero_, Dick." I snapped. "That's all I want to be right now. Taking care of Arthur Junior is the only way I can feel as if I'm doing something worthwhile and still moonlight as Commando. Trying to clean up Blüdhaven...it gets depressing. But when that little boy looks up at me like I'm the greatest person in the world and nothing I could _ever_ do would change that...It feels nice. It makes me feel like I'm _worth_ something."

"You just don't want the responsibility." He barked. "Face it, you're afraid of commitment."

"And whose fault is that?" I spoke through gritted teeth.

Nightwing paused, took a breath, and said. "...That's not fair, Commando, and you know it."

"Not fair? _Not_ _fair_? You wanna know what's not fair?" I snarled.

"What's not fair is shoving your tongue down Zatanna's ugly throat _when we were still dating!_ What's not fair is Kaldur blaming us - _us_ - for Tula's death! What's not fair is Artemis being killed by that...that _monster_!" I was so worked up I was shaking. Large, salty tears rolled down my hot face as I took out all my frustration on the hero in front of me. The small part of my brain that was still rational kept telling me to calm down, that none of this was Dick's fault.

I told it to shut the hell up and just let me _rage_.

"What's not fair that Wally lost his girlfriend for a communication satellite that just ended up getting blown up anyway...it's...it's just _not fair_." My voice lowered to barely a whisper.

Nightwing put his hands on my shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze before he drew me up against his chest and wrapped strong arms around my quivering body. I protested weakly for a moment, and then simply gave up and sank into Nightwing's arms. He knows me too well, I guess. He knows that when I'm that hysterical is best to stop arguing, let me vent, and then offer comfort.

I freaking _hate_ it. He makes it so it's so incredibly hard to stay mad at him.

"I hate you." I hissed, encircling my arms around his waist. I snuggled myself deeper into his chest, holding him tight. There was no romance in the embrace, and I've come to accept that there never will be, but that didn't mean I still couldn't...pretend.

"I know, " He rubbed soothing cirlcles into my back. "I suck."

"Nightwing..." I mumbled, pushing away from him. "I...I gotta go. Queen Mera and Aquaman have that...royal human-fish banquet...meeting...thing, and I have to watch Junior. I'm going to teach him how to ride a bike."

"Didn't Aquaman say he was worried you were _Surface World-izing_ his son too much?" He asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Regrettably, it seems I've accidently taught Junior how to lie to his parents as well." I smirked.

"Commando..." He shook his head at me.

"Just little white lies, I promise!" I laughed, but it sounded forced.

I made my way to the zeta-tube disguised as a broken elevator, pausing for a moment to say good-bye to Dick. We're still friends...even if our relationship often skates on thin ice.

"Yeah." He said stiffly. "See ya later."

Right as I was about to push the button, Nightwing cleared his throat meaningfully and said "Um...Mandy?"

I turned, expecting the usual 'be careful' speech or at least a small lecture on how dangerous Blüdhaven can get, especially at night, and how the frequency of our comm. devices can be hacked or...

"You know, if you ever want to rejoin the team... Your room is still as filthy as you left it." He smiled nervously.

I knitted my eyebrows together. Nightwing made it into a joke, yes, but I know that underneath the façade he was deadly serious. He honestly did want me back, but...with all the craziness going on, I don't think hurling myself into the thick of it would be the best thing for me right now.

"I'm sorry, Dick," I began, trying to be gentle. "I'm just getting used to this lone wolf stuff, and Arthur Junior can be pretty demanding, so...I'm gonna have to turn you down this time."

"If this is about Batgirl and I, we're... We're just friends." Nightwing added quickly.

"Aren't we being a bit conceited, Dickie? Automatically thinking I turned down your offer because I'm jealous of Babs?" I smiled, but wondered when I had become so transparent around Nightwing.

He was...almost right. It did bother me, more than I'd ever admit, but that's not the total reason. I actually do like the quieter side of crime-fighting. No alien invasions, no metahuman psychos, just the same-old flood of petty crooks that we've always had. The simplicity of it is...comforting. But even that isn't the complete truth, the truth that had been nagging at the back of my brain since I saw him hugging Babs.

"It's not that, Dick...It's just...I still..." I shifted uncomfortably.

"You still...what?" Dick frowned.

"I still...I still agree with Wally and Artemis. This line of work is...dangerous. That's why I'm only a part-time hero."

"Oh...okay." He didn't like it, obviously, but he seemed satisfied enough. "If you change your mind..."

"You'll be the first to know." I smiled, pressing the elevator button.

I braced myself for the teleportation, listening to the computerized woman recognize me and activated the tubes. When Nightwing's image and the city of Blüdhaven faded around me, I allowed myself to let out a pained groan and sank to the ground, burying my face in my knees. My mind repeated back to me I wanted to say to Dick when he'd asked me if I was refusing to rejoin because of Babs. It repeated back to me the words I wanted to say after I broke up with him and he started dating Zee all those years ago. I kept thinking it, over and over again, until it became my personal mantra.

_Dick... I still love you._

* * *

Okay, so Commando is basically a babysitter for Aquaman and Queen Mera's son, Arthur Junior. Why? Because I wanted her too :)

I tried to convey that Commando is more mature than she was when she was thirteen, because I really hate it when stories/books/whatever have characters grow older, but never change their maturity levels. Percy Jackson, I'm looking at you...And it's weird, because Percy Jackson and the Olympians is my all-time favorite book series. Well, that and Warriors, but that's a different story.

Personally, I think I suck at present-tense writing. But I tried it here. How'd I do?

I'm also going to try and include more mature content in this story. Nothing dirty, just some alcohol use. Maybe references to sex and a few lewd jokes, but nothing explicit. And, as always, there will be emotional/physical damage to many, if not all, characters in my story. But...come on, you guys know me, right? You know I enjoy taking my OCs and beating them with pereverbal sticks.

So...Review?


	2. Riptide

Alright, friends, I still don't really know exactly where this is going, but I have a better idea now thanks to all the people who submitted suggestions. While I promise I won't use them all, I'll try to incorporate most of them.

I really don't have an excuse for my lack of updates. But to be fair, I was almost done with the new chapter for Legally Insane, but my phone acted up for no reason and deleted all my work. So...now I have to retype that...-_- Awesome.

**I hate the summary for this story. So much. Suggestions for that are still open. I'll probably just experiment with a bunch of different ones until I'm satisfied. **

* * *

_**-Commando's Legacy-**_

_**Chapter Two: Riptide**_

* * *

"...We should return home within the month, but do not be alarmed if we are delayed because..._Commando_, are you even listening to me?"

Mera's voice suddenly turned harsh, startling me out of my daydream. I blinked my eyes to focus them and turned around, staring uncomprehendingly at the Queen of Atlantis. For several moments my foggy brain couldn't understand why she looked so mad, and then I realized that I'd been lost in thought and missed part of the conversation.

"Well?" She demanded, growing impatient.

I blushed nine different shades of crimson, mind whirling, trying desperately to think of a way to bullshit my way around the question so Mera didn't find out I hadn't listened to a word she just said. The longer I stood there, not speaking, the more frustrated the queen seemed to become.

After another moment or so, I just gave up. "Um...I'm sorry?"

Mera sighed through her nose, a sure sign that she was struggling to suppress the overwhelming urge to lecture me. "You have been distracted _all evening_, Commando." She moved to my side, laying a hand gently on my shoulder. "Are you feeling alright?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but no sound came out. So I just stood there, awkwardly shifting back and forth, trying to think of an answer that would satisfy her. The truth would only lead to more questions, and lying to the Queen of Atlantis is _a lot_ harder than it sounds.

She learned early on that when I want to keep something to myself, I'll lie like a dog to keep everyone off my back. So, unless I make her believe the crap I'm feeding her, she'll swing by The Cave and ask Nightwing if I'm really as alright as I claim.

Dick is usually a pretty good confidante, and I know that he wouldn't use what happened in Blüdhaven against me, but there's no way he'd lie to Mera. Not about something like this.

I gave Mera a sad smile and leaned against the wall behind me, crossing my arms over my chest. Aware that Mera was watching me, I allowed my gaze to drift over to the large window I lost myself in earlier.

The glass was bullet-proof, tinting the color a little, but doing nothing to obscure the wonderful view of the ocean below.

"I...I don't know, Mera." I answered honestly. "Everything's so nuts anymore, I... I just..."

I shrugged, turning my attention back to the churning waters. Fascinated by the way the waves crashed forward against the rocks, and completely forgetting that Mera was still expected an response, I moved closer to the windowpane and slipped back into reverie.

I've always loved the sea, even though I didn't really see much of it when I was small. I do have a very vague memory of a trip I took when I was a toddler - a family vacation, I guess. My mother had stayed behind at the hotel, probably screwing one of the busboys, while my stepfather and my grandma took me down to the ocean. I don't think Dakota was there, so this had to be a _really_ early memory.

I don't remember much about the beach, except that I'd had such a good time, playing in the sand and exploring the tide pools, that I never wanted to leave. I put up such a fuss when Jason tried to get me back into the car that a few nosey tourists stopped and ordered him to learn how to control his child. My crying came to an abrupt halt when my mother, very intoxicated and wearing her blouse inside out, stumbled over to the car, but I pouted the whole way home.

I never could regain that feeling of absolute bliss I had that day at the ocean, but I did return to the water as much as I could. When I was about ten, my little tribe of children and I lived in a bankrupt fish cannery in Coast City for awhile. The place was located near a small stretch of beach and, even though the sand was littered with trash and the water tasted like oil, I swam there every day. Sadly, the building was then schedule for demolition and we were forced to move.

I wasn't able to return to the sea until almost three years later, when I moved into The Cave with Conner and M'gann.

That's why I insisted on moving into the old rec room, when I could have had a much bigger room If I wanted it. The view from my enormous observation window was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. I spent many nights there, sitting cross-legged on the floor, watching the waves. Sometimes, when the moon was full, I'd sneak out just to get a closer look at the moonlight reflecting against the waves.

When I moved out, I had my old room locked up tight. It was partly because I didn't want Gar rooting through the old junk I couldn't take with me, and partly because I didn't want the view to belong to anyone else but me. Batman thought I was being selfish, and since I couldn't explain my reasoning to him without sounding like a total moron, I let him believe it. _  
_

I suddenly realized I'd been silent for a long time. Mera was still watching me, patiently waiting while I gathered my thought. I offered her a shaky smile and decided to go with the answer that should have the least unpleasant repercussions.

"Please don't worry about me," I watched her carefully, gauging her response. "Things are gonna be crazy for awhile, but I'll be okay. I always am."

She quirked an eyebrow at me, clearly not impressed with my evasive response, but not calling me out on it either. I forced myself to relax, watching with exaggerated interest as Mera busied herself with preparations for the trip. Normally, I would offer to help, but Mera prefers to do those kinds of things herself. That, and she knows I can't organize things to save my life and would probably just end up getting frustrated and breaking something expensive.

"Jill, JILL, _**JILL**_!" A squeaky little voice and the pattering of tiny feet filled the air.

I chuckled and crouched down to intercept Aquaman's little son. He catapulted himself into my arms, squealing with joy when I straightened up and tossed him up into the air. Mera visibly winced, even though I'd never dropped Arthur Junior and never will.

I get that I'm not a full-time hero anymore, but my activities in Blüdhaven keep me pretty active, and I still maintain a vigorous training regimen to keep me sharp. Canary would have a fit if I didn't. I'm pretty sure I can handle the weight of one four-year-old boy.

AJ giggled and grabbed a hold of my cloak, holding himself up while trying to reach into my pockets to see if I brought him any chocolate. When his grubby little hands found nothing but pocket lint, he looked up at me sadly and jutted out his bottom lip.

"Nuh-uh, AJ." I shook my head. "Candy makes you too hyper, and you haven't had dinner yet."

The boy didn't reply, but he did stick out his lip a little more. I smiled at him, unfazed, and dug my fingers into the boy's ribcage, tickling him until he broke down into a fit of uncontrollable giggles and half-heatedly tried to smack my hands away. I laughed and handed the little boy over to his mother, who gave AJ a brief cuddle before setting him down so he could return to his playroom.

"Looking for sweets, was he?" Mera asked with a soft smile, watching her son turn a corner and disappear from view.

"Yeah, Arthur Junior loves it when I bring him snacks from the _Surface World_. He really likes Jawbreakers, but I have to keep reminding him not to bite down on them or he'll hurt his mouth." I smiled, remembering how I had completely panicked the first time he tried to chew on some hard candy and knocked out one of his baby teeth.

Mera smiled back, but said nothing. There was an awkward pause.

"His...English lessons seem to be coming along quite nicely." Mera ventured.

"Yeah, he's picking up English much faster than I'm picking up Atlantean. I bought him some more storybooks, since he already mowed through the old ones. He's a smart kid."

Awkward. Silence.

"Is there... Something you'd like to talk about, Mera?" I shifted uneasily on my feet.

The queen sighed. "Please listen to what I have to say before you dismiss me. I know you prefer keeping your emotions to yourself, but..."

"You heard what happened to Artemis, I take it?" I bowed my head.

"I just do not think it is healthy for you to try and get through this alone..."

"I'm not alone. Canary already talked to me about it. Against my will, of course, but we still talked...I'm fine, really." I gave her an unconvincing smile.

"I am...very sorry for your loss, my dear. It's always hard to lose a close friend." She continued as if I hadn't said anything.

_I think I know that better than you, Mera._ I narrowed my eyes a little, but remained silent.

After a moment or so, I realized that I should probably say something about La'gann. I've sat through enough stories about Aquaman's new protégé to know that Mera cares about the boy just as much as she cares for her own son, so the news that he had been taken by own of her husband's worst enemies couldn't have be easy to hear, but... And I know this is horrible to say, given the circumstances, I don't really like Lagoon Boy.

The guy's got a superiority complex the size of a small country, and his jealousy issues quickly became a problem for the team. When I approached Dick about this, he insisted that La'gann is a good hero and his quicks wouldn't hinder the team in any way.

I disagreed, and now I guess I can say _'I told you so_.' La'gann acted recklessly, endangering himself, the mission, and every other hero present at the satellite launch. As a result, he is now Black Manta's prisoner.

The mission's failure as well as Artemis's death cannot be blamed on him, however. I only assign blame where blame is due. Kaldur'ahm is the one that swung the sword, not La'gann.

Still, the boy always worried me. He's possessive, almost territorial, when it comes to M'gann and will fly off the handle if another guy even talks to his 'Angelfish' when he's not around.

He treats her well enough, I guess, but even before they were officially a couple I felt that La'gann was holding her back. I will willingly admit that I acted similar when I was young, but I was never that extreme, and I would never jeopardize the mission when I knew that so much was at stake.

Still...I probably shouldn't talk bad about him like this. At the end of the day, La'gann is just a kid. Black Manta's men are cutthroat and ruthless on a good day, and fact that La'gann is Aquaman's protégé probably won't help him much. Manta will most likely keep him alive to use as a bargaining chip, but I'm afraid that La'gann will say or do something stupid and incite the wrath of one of Manta's soldiers.

And's that's just assuming he isn't unlucky enough to have to face Black Manta himself. A week ago, I would've said that I hope Kaldur was put in charge of him. Up until the day of Artemis's murder, I had been clinging to the vague hope that Aqualad still retained some semblance of his former self, but now...Now I truly know how malevolent my former friend has become.

La'gann has landed himself in serious trouble this time, and he may not make it out alive. He's a jackass, no doubt about it, but I honestly do hope he comes out of this alright.

But I still couldn't make myself say the words.

Mera was right when she said that I don't like talking about my feelings. But if there's one thing I hate more, it's listening to other people talk about their feelings. I'm not cold hearted or anything. In fact, I have the exact opposite problem. I care _too_ much. If she cries, I'm going to cry, and no one wants that.

I only offered comfort to Wally because I've known him for years, if I broke down around him (And I did) I knew he wouldn't care. Besides, he's more like a brother to me rather than just a friend. He always was.

I've known Mera since I was a child, yes. But I only knew her indirectly, through Aquaman and Kaldur. I didn't really meet her until recently, when she expressed the desire to have someone with hero training watch over her young son and my name came up.

I suppose I'm not that comfortable with her just yet. I like the queen of Atlantis, don't get me wrong, but I can't stand it when she does the whole 'Momma Bird' routine. I already have a Momma Bird, thank you very much.

Sure, right now my Momma Bird is driving me up a wall with her over-protectiveness, but...

Mera cleared her throat, making me look back up at her. "Well?"

"Well what?" I asked, puzzled.

"Commando..." She frowned. "Tell me you did not just drift off again."

Realizing my mistake, I frantically tried to backtrack and come up with some excuse. I couldn't think of anything believable, so I just swallowed down what was left of my pride and said. "I'm...I'm sorry, Mera. I wasn't...listening."

As an answer, Mera sighed.

"Jill..." The young queen shook her head at me.

"Perhaps we should find another sitter until after you have time to cope..."

"**_NO!_**" I shouted, then blushed wildly when Mera gave me a funny look.

"I mean...no, that's okay. What I really need right now is something to distract me, and AJ can be pretty demanding...so don't...don't do that." I pleaded.

Mera's gaze softened. "You really are wonderful with children, you know."

"Yeah, well... I... I've always wanted to be a mother." I admitted, blush darkending.

"You are still young," Mera said. "Enjoy your youth while you can."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. Canary would have my head on a stick. But hey, I might be getting some new charges soon. Flash's wife is pregnant. Twins, I think. I volunteered to babysit the little animals when their parents want some time off. Barry was all for it, but..."

"But what?"

"Iris likes me, but she still remembers me as the kid that duct-taped her nephew to the Maple tree in her backyard. I don't think Iris would've been so upset if I hadn't fallen asleep on the couch and... left him tied to the tree for three hours."

Mera nodded in understanding, waiting for me to say something else. When I didn't, she let out a disappointed sigh and left me to go say a proper good-bye to her son. When I was sure Mera had gone, I rolled my eyes and rubbed my temples to try to relieve my growing headache.

That woman is going to be the death of me.

My cell phone started vibrating, but when I checked the caller ID I rolled my eyes and shoved it back into my pocket. Momma Canary was calling to check up on her surrogate chickadee again. I appreciate her concern, I really do, but...if I try to talk to her again, before I have the chance to prepare myself, I'm going to start crying like an overgrown toddler. I don't want to seem weak in front of someone I admire as much as I do.

I cried around Wally and Dick, yes. But Wally is...Wally, and Dick has seen me cry plenty of times before. With him, it just wasn't that big a deal, for either of us. And besides, he knew what he was doing. Coming after me, offering his emotional support and wrapping his arms around me as I cried...Damn him.

I moved away from the window, busying myself with minor around-the-house tasks while I waiting for Junior to get bored in his playroom and come looking for me. Mera believes I should hover over the kid 24/7 to make sure he doesn't 'injure himself.' I believe that he's a four-year-old, not a newborn, and can manage himself. Besides, sounds tend to echo in the lighthouse, so no matter where I am I can here him if he calls for me or cries out. Unless I go into the basement, in which case I would take him with me.

After a few hours, AJ ventured out of the playroom to see what I was up to, like I knew he would. I took the oppurtunuty to seize the small child and attempt to coax some dinner into him, but he wasn't having it. He took a few bites, and then proclaimed he didn't like it.

"Junior, you've had this before, and you told me you loved it."

"Well, I changed my mind."

"Well, I haven't. Eat."

And that's when the tantrum started. Feigning disinterest, I leaned back and propped my legs up on one of the empty chairs, taking a sip of my milk every once in awhile, and watched the small boy kick and scream himself into hysterics on the kitchen floor. When AJ finally realized I wasn't going to give him the response he wanted, the flow of tears stopped, he rolled over, and looked up at me with a puzzled expression on his little face.

My eyebrow quirked. "You done?"

"NO!" And the tantrum started back up again.

I shrugged and took a large bite of my maracroni and cheese, completely ignoring the wailing, thrashing child. Minutes past, and then I heard AJ sniffle, hiccup a few times, and stop crying. I turned just in time to see the little prince get up and slide himself back into his chair. Aware I was watching him, AJ scowled into his plate and begun to shovel the food down his throat.

I allowed myself a small, triumphant grin before I forced my expression back into something neutral and gently laid my hand on AJ's tiny wrist, stilling his arm and making him look up at me. He still looked a little miffed that he hadn't got his way, but the tears were quickly drying on his face and he had calmed down to the point where he would be prepared to listen to me.

"Arthur..." I said sternly. "I am _not_ your mother, and I am _not_ your father, and you know I'm not going to put up with you throwing a temper tantrum every time you don't get what you want. Next time, you're going to bed without dinner. Understand?"

He nodded, bottom lip wobbling. "Sorry..."

Despite my efforts to remain solemn as to not dilute the affects of the scolding, I could never stay mad at that cute little face. I wrapped an arm around his tiny frame, pressing a kiss against his forehead and giving him a warm smile so he knew all was forgiven. He giggled, jokingly shoving me away. I pulled away and continued eating, making idle chit-chat with AJ and more or less forgetting that the outburst had even happened.

Arthur Junior is, for the most part, a good boy, but his parents spoil the crap out of him and the occasional tantrum is inevitable. It usually happens when his parents leave him with me and he knows that they're going to be gone for longer than a few days. Testing my authority, I guess. God knows I did it enough times when I was a kid. Unlike AJ, however, when I rebelled it was _Batman_ who bore the brunt of it. Bruce was never unfair, but he wasn't as lenient with punishment as I am. Needless to say, I became well acquainted with the spin-chilling effects of a Batglare.

After I cleaned up the remnants of our meal and deposited AJ back in his playroom, I took the brief moment of free time I had to sneak off to my room and pull out the mini-fridge I have hidden in my closet.

Smirking, I pulled out a bottle of Paul Masson Burgundy and held it up to the light. It's pretty cheap red wine, but surprisingly good. Mike, being the responsible adult he is, gave it to me a few weekends ago as a sort of party favor. We were celebrating Mike finally getting a girlfriend who's probably not a psychopath. I've met her a couple times, and she seems nice, but I don't really know her yet so I'm trying to postpone judgment until I'm sure. After all, I thought Heather was wonderful before she tried to stab Mike's eyes out with a screwdriver...Long story, very violent, not important.

Queen Mera and Aquaman have no problem with me having a drink of wine every once in awhile, but in Atlantis it's not unusual for young people, even children, to have wine with dinner.

But...the last time Canary caught me with alcohol...Well, she was less than pleased. And then she told Batman, and there's no way in hell I'm going to relive _that_. So now I've learned to hide my wine from everybody now, except Mike, who honestly couldn't care less. I wouldn't normally dip into my stash while AJ was still awake, but I seriously need a drink right now. I really wish I had something stronger, but it'll have to do.

I walked back to the kitchen and pulled out one of the queen's wine glasses, setting the bottle on the island before I poured myself a glass. I slid a chair over to my makeshift bar, proping up my feet on it and leaning back. As soon as I got comfortable, I raised the glass to my lips and took a sip, savor ing the taste.

Where I live, I'm technically not supposed to be drinking yet, but I've never been a stickler for the law. And besides, they say that eighteen-year-olds are allowed to _transport_ alcohol, right? Well, right now I'm _transporting_ it from the glass to my stomach. However, there are a few people I can mention who would disagree with my logic.

Sometimes I feel ridicoulous, sneaking around like a teenager like this, but we do what we have to for our wine, right? I grinned broadly, taking another drink from the glass and admired how the wine was the exact same color as my cloak...

"Well, I'll be damned. I always pegged you as a whiskey kind of girl. Drinking wine is more elegant, I guess, but you've never been one for social grace, have you?" A soft, joking voice came from behind me.

I was on my feet in an instant, dropping my wine and yanking my pistols from their holsters before the glass even had the chance to fall to the ground. I heard it smash, but I was too focused on the person that stood before me to register the sound.

"Whoa! This always how you greet your houseguests?" The man blinked, shying away from me.

"_Cameron_." I sighed, annoyed and relieved at the same time, reholstering my guns.

"Well, nothing like thinking you're about to die to get the heart pumping." He grinned shakily, adjusting his shoulder pack a little before gently easing himself off the edge of the table where he retreated when I thrust my guns into his face.

"Wh-What're you doing here?" I stammered. "How'd you even get in? The security system should've..."

"Have you already forgotten our ritual, Mandy? Usually when we meet I start out with 'Hey, hey, Jillie J—what's happening,' and then you say..." He began, joking around like everything was normal.

"Things are a little different now, Cam." I cut him off coldy.

His smile faded, his eyes darted down to his feet. "Aw, come on, Jill. Don't be like that..."

"How, exactly, do you want me to be?" I demanded. "I love you, Cameron. You've always been like the big brother I never had. You know that. But what you did...it's a little hard to forgive."

His head snapped back up and he grabbed my shoulder, squeezing lightly. We made eye contact, and I could tell by the look in his eyes that Cameron was genuinely sorry. But it wasn't for what he had done, it was because he knew he had hurt me.

As sweet as that is, it worries me. It means that, in his mind, what he did was completely justified. He never meant to cause me grief over him, and that should make me feel better, but for some reason it doesn't. All I can feel is the sting of his betrayal, the deep, all-to-familiar ache in my chest that only Cameron could cause.

This wasn't the first time he's hurt me, and it certainly won't be the last. Ever since I was a little girl, Cameron always put me after his father in his heart. Every time, I forgave him. I had to. If I wanted to remain his friend I had to learn to let things go, but this time...I'm not so sure I can.

"Jill, I...I have no excuses, for what I did to you and your friends. But we both know that I would return to this life eventually. It's just...easier than being a hero. I'll admit, it was kinda nice, ya know? To actually be a good guy for a change...but it's just not me."

"_No_." I insisted. "It _is_ you. It's always been you. It's just not your father, and that's the real problem, isn't it?"

He sighed again. "Jill, you don't understand. He's better now. He's..."

"He's the same as he always was and always will be, Cameron. Joar is...he's too far gone. But you're not. Ever since you were a little boy, you've shown you have the ability to feel compassion. To love. Deep down, I know you're a good person." I reached out, seizing his hand in mine.

"After all, you helped me."

He pulled away from me, running a hand through his spiky, ashen hair. "I wasn't always this nice, Jill. When we first met..."

"It doesn't matter now." I cut him off, not wanting to revisit old grievances.

"No, it does. Don't you remember, Jill? Those first few months, I treated you like crap. And you...you were never anything but nice to me. And you were just an innocent little girl. What's that say about me?"

I bit my bottom lip at that. Of course I remembered, as much as I'd like to forget. I found it disconcerting that he would bring up the incident now, when neither one of us had spoken about it in years, but I couldn't deny that Cameron had raised a valid point.

But here's my argument. As bad as Cameron treated me, I know he suffered far worse at the hands of his own father. I remember standing by, bristling with anger and disgust, as I was forced to watch Joar deny his son even the slightest bit of affection. The things that man put Cameron through, and all before the boy was even old enough to understand that his father didn't - _couldn't_ - love him. I remember feeling the overwhelming need to help Cameron, to love him and protect him the way he so desperately needed.

"You were just a nine-year-old boy, Cameron. You were hurting. And you didn't exactly have the best role model..."

"Neither did you," He retorted. "And you still had the decency to be nice to me."

"...You have a good point, Cam." I conceded after a moment. "But I had something you didn't."

"Oh, and what's that?" He scoffed.

"I had my father's love. Sure, Jason isn't my real father, but he might as well be. I had my little brother and sister. I had my grandmother, at least for awhile. You had no one, until Artemis and I came along. And we couldn't always be there, not as much as you needed us to be. Artemis was busy with her own father, and Joar didn't like having me around when he didn't need me. He said I gave you 'ideas,' remember?"

"Okay, you got me there." He smiled softly.

"But there's one thing you did that I never understood."

"And that is?" I blinked.

"I was a jerk to you when we first met. But no matter what I did, you would always forgive me and then pretend like it didn't happen. But I always saw the hurt in your eyes. And that bothered me. I didn't want it too, because my father had told me that compassion is for the weak. But it did."

I nodded. "I know. I remember."

"Every time I saw that...that look on your face, it killed me. I wanted to stop, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to. I just didn't know how. So then, I tried to make you hate me. I would push you around, or push you away, but you just wouldn't give up."

He shook his head. "Why? Why did you do that to yourself? Why do you still act like I'm worth anything? I may not treat you like pond scum anymore, but I know I let you down. I betrayed you and the rest of the Suicide Squad, and you still haven't given up on me. I don't get it."

"Cameron.." My eyes softened. "You _are_ worth something. You deserve the chance to be saved. Yeah, when I was a little kid, and you treated me like dirt...it hurt, it hurt a lot. But I could tell you were hurting worse...and you warmed up to me eventually, didn't you? Now you're one of my best friends. I know you don't mean to hurt me. You're just...hardwired that way."

He smiled sadly. "I think you see only what you want to see, Jill."

I frowned. "Maybe I do, Cam. But if that's true, we both know who I learned it from."

"Look, I don't expect you to understand..." He began, changing the subject.

"Good, I don't." I scowled.

"_But."_ He continued, clearly making an effort to ignore me and avoid another argument. "I need help, and you're the only person I can trust with this."

"If you need help with one of Joar's litte suicide missions, forget it. You're my friend, Cam, but there's no way I..." My voice trailed off when Cameron started to move.

He took the pack off his shoulder, setting it down on the kitchen island I had been sitting at before Cam snuck up behind me and nearly gave me a heart attack. Curiosity overwhelming the urge to be angry with him, I moved beside Cameron and eyed the pack dubiously. I was about to ask what was inside when the bag began to wiggle and let out a slighly muffled cry.

"What's is it? A puppy?" I asked, confused.

Cameron smiled lightly, as if the idea amused him, and shook his head. Feeling frustrated, I was about to snap at him when he finally unfastened the top of the pack and withdrew a small pink bundle. Cradling the parcel protectively against his chest, the ice-meta opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and simply thrust the squirming package into my arms.

Realization slowly dawned on me once the object was actually in my arms, but my stubborn mind was still in denial. There's absolutely no way this can be happening. Not now, not to me...

Holding the bundle against my chest with one arm, I reached out, hand shaking, and unraveled the blankets a little, exposing what the rational part of my brain knew would be there. A tiny cherub-like face stared back up at me, blinking uncomprehendingly, before a pair of chubby little hands reached up and seized my dragon clasp. Unable to articulate a response that actually included words, I just stood there and looked at the tiny body in my arms, not quite believing what was going on.

A baby. My mouth fell open. I looked up at Icicle Junior, then back at the baby, then back at him.

The child was obviously Cameron's, with the same pale blue complexion and lovely azure eyes. The curve of the cheek, the nose, and mouth were also similar. Baby fat softened up the features, but I could tell that when she grew the resemblance to her father would be almost uncanny. For now, she was merely an adorable, yet oddly colored infant with small tufts of bleach blonde hair atop her fragile head.

"Cameron, I...I don't know what to say. A baby? This is...Oh my God.." I trailed off, not knowing what to say. _  
_

Cameron smiled fondly at the child in my arms and moved beside me, chucking the child under the chin and grinning wildly when the child let out an enthusiastic giggle. The obvious love he had for his daughter was adorable, but my mind was in such utter turmoil I could barely register it. _  
_

"Her name is Isabella Rose Mahkent. She's four and a half months old. I know it was a really long time ago, but you still remember how to care for a baby that little, right?" Cameron asked hopefully.

"Yes," I admitted. "But...I don't understand...Why me?"

Cameron shrugged. "Who else can I trust with her? In case you haven't noticed, I don't exactly have many friends."

_You're right about that, pal_. I gave him an lopsided smile. _I'm all you got. I'm all you've ever had_.

"So what'll it be?" He asked.

I had to think about it. The League is going to ask a lot of questions. They'll examine my motives, question my credibility and trustworthiness. I'll be interrogated, maybe even accused. And Nightwing...Nightwing will not be very happy with me either, concidering the way he reacted when he first learnt of Cameron's return to the dark side.

But I'm sure that as soon as I actually show them Isabella, they'll see things my way. Who could resist such an absolutely adorable child? And with Batman gone, it should be a lot easier to convince them I made the right decision. Of course, there's the problem with what to do when he gets back, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

But...what the hell am I going to tell _her_?

I looked down at the little girl in my arms, cooing softly as I rocked her back and forth. I didn't have my real father around growing up, and after I learned who...what...he is, I didn't _want_ him around, either, but...There was always that empty gap in my life, the insatiable desire to know what it was like to have my father, _my_ real father, in my life. To go to sleep every night, knowing that my daddy loves me. My biological dad doesn't even know we're related, and I like it that way, but...I guess I'll always wonder...what he would say, if he knew the truth.

But instead, I grew up knowing what it's like to have a father that disgusts you to the point where the very mention of his name makes you physically ill. Sure, I'm going to tell Isabella that her father is a good man, because I honestly believe that he is. But others...well, they won't paint such a pretty picture of Isabella's daddy.

The last thing I want is to have her grow up and resent her own DNA like I do. And how am I going to send this child to school? Or even take her outside for a walk? Children can be cruel, and Isabella's unnaturally colored skin is going to make her an easy target.

But there was something else bothering me. Cameron is her father, but it takes two to tango, so to speak. I wasn't even aware Cameron was is a relationship, let alone sexually active. Cameron never really seemed interested in having a real romantic relationship, nor was he ever the one-night-stand type. He's a flirt, and every once in awhile he'll fall for some girl and have a brief fling with them, but nothing serious.

Who did Cameron sleep with? Who gave birth to this sweet little baby?

"Cam...what...where's her mother?" I asked as gently as I could, not wanting to upset him.

Cameron blanched, his arms falling limply to his side. He said nothing, shoulders slumped, refusing to look me in the eyes.

"Cameron?" I reached out, catching him by the elbow. "Are you alright?"

"S-She..." He was trembling now.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa..." I raised my hands, alarmed. "Slow down a second. Here..."

I quickly made Isabella a makeshift bed out of a tableclothe and then led Cameron to a chair, making him sit down on it. He tried to say something, but between the stammering and mumbling, I couldn't quite make it out. I located another wine glass and grabbed my forgotten bottle of wine, carefully filling the glass and pressing it into Cameron's shaking hands.

He looked up at me, blinking in confusion.

I shrugged. "Alcohol always calms my nerves, Cam. You kinda look like you need something stronger, but sorry, that's all I got."

He shot me a grateful smile and drank his wine, mumbling incoherent things under his breath every once in awhile. I stood behind him, gently rubbing his back and murmuring comforting words into his ear. I wasn't even sure what I was saying, only that it sounded good, and it was calming him down.

"Thanks." He said after awhile, downing the last of the drink.

"No prob..." I squeezed his shoulders lightly. "And Cameron? You don't have to answer, if you don't want to. It's okay."

"No...it's fine. I want you to know. I just don't know where to start..."

"How about... the beginning?" I suggested.

He sighed, face taking on a somber expression before he looked up at me through sad, half-lidded eyes. I didn't move from my place by his shoulder and kept one reassuring hand on the ice-meta's back, waiting patiently for him to speak.

"D'you remember when I told you...what happened to my mother?" He whispered.

I shivered, remembering. "How could I possibly forget?"

For some reason, Cameron's meta abilities activated themselves shortly after his mother went into labor with him. Mrs. Mahkent froze to death, from the inside out. They managed to perform a last minute C-section, saving Cameron, but not his mother. Joar blamed Cam for her death, even though there was nothing anyone could've done. If there was anyone at fault here, it was Joar. It was his prolonged exposure to his Cold Gun that altered his genetics, resulting in Cameron being born a metahuman. If he never became Icicle, Cameron's mother would still be alive.

The more I thought about it, the more my anxiety grew. What if...What if Isabella inherited more than her father's albino skin? Is it possible that Cameron's lover suffered the same fate as his mother? No...just no. Cameron would need forgive himself if...

"Cam..." I breathed. "Is Isabella's mother...is she...dead?"

He sucked in his breath, nodding slowly.

"Oh, Cameron." I knelt, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Oh, man, I'm so sorry."

"I tried, Jill. I really did try to save her..." He mumbled.

"When we found out she was preganant, we took her to some scientists who studied metahuman genetics. They ran all sorts of tests throughout the pregnancy, and they gave her a bunch of medication to try and keep Isabella's metahuman gene dormant, at least until after the birth. It was going to well...Isabella was crowning. Just a few more pushes, and we'd be in the clear..." His voice trailed off.

"What happened, Cam?" I prompted, holding him tighter.

"Isabella froze all of her mother's internal organs. I can still hear her screaming. And all I could do was hold her, she... She died in my arms. They managed to save Isabella, but not..."

"Not your wife?" I closed my eyes.

"We were never married." He admitted. "Our relationship was kept quiet. My father...does not know about the baby."

"Good." I muttered, mostly to myself. I returned to Isabella, gathering the little child into my arms. She gurgled softly, but otherwise didn't react.

"She's very quiet." I observed. "Is she sick?"

"She's always been like that." He shrugged. "She'll get fussy when she's tired or hungry or whatever, but she doesn't really cry that much. At first I thought something was wrong with her, but everyone I talked to said that...That I got lucky, and my baby is just... quiet."

I nodded, but said nothing else. I was silent for a very long time.

"Okay." I said softly.

"Okay what?"

"Okay, Cameron. I'll do it. I'll take care of her. I have no freaking idea how I'm going to explain this..."

"Didn't Nightwing forbid you from talking to me ever again?" He laughed brokenly.

"Yeah..." I scowled. "But he doesn't own me, Cameron. I make my own decisions."

"...And...And the League?" He added.

"I don't think they'll be very pleased with me either..." I admitted. "But they'll only be mad because I talked to you and didn't try to arrest you, or at least alert the League to your location. As a hero...they'd expect me to. But they will not be angry about my decision to take in your child. They may keep a close eye on me for awhile, though..."

"Why?"

"Since I so readily agreed to take care of your child, they might think that I've been keeping contact with you all this time. Maybe even helping you hide."

"That's stupid!" He sputtered. "Even after all you've done for them, they still don't trust you?"

_They only don't trust me because the criminal I took responsibly for turned his back on us first chance he got... _I bit my tongue to prevent the words from spilling past my lips, choosing instead to shrug indifferently and glance down at the baby in my arms again, who had long since fallen asleep.

"It'll be okay." I assured him. "I have enough friends among the League that nothing will come of it. I'll just...I'll figure something out."

"Yeah, you are caring for Aquaman's royal guppy, aren't you? You'd think they'd be a litte more grateful." He snickered.

_Royal guppy? _My eyebrows knit together, unsure of what he meant.!

When Cameron's words finally registered, I almost choked on my own salvia. My heart rate spiked and I broke out into a cold sweat. How long had I been standing here, talking to Cameron? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? Why hadn't the naturally curious boy come out of his room to see what all the commotion was about, unless...

"Jill? Jill! Say something, kid, are you alright?" Cameron reached out and shook me, clearly alarmed.

"Cameron." I said, breathing hard. "How did you get in here?"

He frowned at me, thoroughly confused. "Into the kitchen? I just walked and saw you sitting at the island, so I thought I'd sneak up behind you and..."

I shook my head, cutting him off. "That isn't what I meant. How...How'd you get inside the lighthouse?"

"Again, I just walked. I opened the door and walked down the hallway until I found the elevator. Nice touch, by the way. Walking up and down all those steps every day would be exhausting..."

"Nothing stopped you?" I chewed my bottom lip.

"No, was something supposed to?" He blinked.

"Th-the security system. You shouldn't have gotten this far, unless someone disabled it. But if someone snuck in and they weren't after me, that means...Oh God no..."

"Calm down." He rested his hands on my trembling shoulders, keeping me steady. "Don't panic before you know for sure what..."

Cameron's words fell on deaf ears. I couldn't focus on anything other than overwhelming dread that I felt welling up inside me. Moving quickly, I shoved Isabella back into her father's arms and took off towards the playroom where I had left the little prince alone to play.

It felt like my legs were moving through molasses, like no matter how hard I pushed myself I couldn't move fast enough. I reached the boy's playroom and flung open the door.

He wasn't there.

Sweat began to bead on my forehead and my breath came out in ragged gasps.

"AJ? Arthur Junior?" I called out.

No answer.

Fearing the worst, I quickly made my way into the computer room and brought the feed from the security cameras up on the monitor. I found myself staring at a bunch of black screens, proving that they'd either been covered up or otherwise disabled. Whoever broke in clearly didn't want me knowing who they are.

"Gotta do better than that, bastard." I hissed, hitting a few more keys.

Security footage from inside the lighthouse began to play across the screen. Several months ago, I...liberated...some security cameras from Nightwing, the little ones that you can hide almost anywhere, and placed them around the lighthouse. I believe that a little extra security never hurt anybody, which is probably the Bat's influence coming out in me.

I watched the screen with intense eyes. The video was kind of hazy, probably because I hadn't set them up properly, but I could see everything well enough. There I was, pouring myself a glass of wine in the kitchen, while AJ played quietly with his toys. I switched between the feeds, seeing nothing abnormal.

Losing hope, I kept switching feeds, before I saw something out the corner of my eye that caught my attention. Something black and bulky, vaguely humanoid. Hands shaking, I zoomed in on the spot and found myself looking at the blurry, yet unmistakable figure of one of Prince Orm's soldiers.

"No..." I whispered in disbelief. "No..."

I paused the video, unable to watch anymore, and slowly fell to my knees. I stayed there for I don't know how long, just staring at the armored man frozen mid-stride in the middle of the hallway. The bastard had walked right past me and I never had a clue.

Angry tears rolled down my cheeks for the second time that night. I squeezed my eyes shut as a wave of self-loathing crashed down on me. If I'd been paying attention to him instead of sneaking around with my wine bottle like a fucking fourteen-year-old, I could've prevented this. The little boy I promised to protect is as good as dead, and it's all my fault.

"Jill! What the hell? What're you..." Cameron stepped into the room with me, babe in arms, and looked puzzled as to why I was kneeling on the ground with my eyes puffy and wet. As an answer, I gestured weakly to the monitor.

"Oh...Oh my God..." I heard him swallow and move to my side. "Jill, I'm...I'm so sorry."

"Don't feel sorry for me." I spat, climbing to my feet. "I don't deserve you're pity. Feel sorry for AJ, he's the one in danger, not me."

I glared at my reflection in the monitor, hating what I saw. Every second I wasted feeling sorry for myself was a second I could've been looking for Arthur Junior. And, knowing Orm, he won't keep his little nephew alive for long.

In fact, I might already be too late.

"And while you're at it, you should probably feel sorry for Aquaman's asshole of a brother."

"I know I'm gonna regret asking, but... why?" He asked hesitantly.

"Because, Cameron." My eyes blazed with anger.

"I'm gonna hunt the bastard down, and then I'm gonna fucking kill him."

* * *

For whatever reason, this chapter was a nightmare to edit...blah. **And to clarify, no, everyone, Isabella is not Artemis's daughter in this fanfic. Spitfire is my OTP. Isabella's mother is just some random girl that is not that important to the overall plot, and I killed her. Yeah.**

I ended the chapter with Commando saying she was going to kill Orm. Whether or not she'll actually go through with it...I'm mulling it over. What do you guys think? For those of you that've read the first story, do you think Commando is capable of doing such a thing?

Now for my thoughts on La'gann...I'm trying to be fair to him, I really am, but he's...the rebound guy. That's all he is. The writers aren't even trying to make us like him. Honestly, I think he has the potential to be a really cool character, with a little character development.

Random Time: When Artemis is 'killed,' was I the only one questioning Nightwing's first aid skills? Aqualad stabbed her with a water sword, and she started to bleed. Nightwing started giving her CPR. Wait...what? Okay, if the sword punctured her lungs and filled them with water, that I could understand. But they didn't hint that this was the case. As far as I know, the 'death' was caused by a stab wound, otherwise showing the blood wouldn't make much sense. I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure a stab wound cannot be healed with CPR. I get that it's a cartoon, and the death was faked, but still.


	3. Au Pair

I still hate the summary for this story...so much...I just...I can't write summaries.

I really don't have an excuse for not updating my stories, other than the fact that Red vs. Blue has completely taken over my life. And I'm okay with that.

I thank everyone who explained the CPR scene. I have little to no knowledge when it comes to things like that, and am far too lazy to look it up. :/

* * *

"_Commando..._?"_  
_

"Are you on a secure line?"

A soft click, and then Dick's gentle voice crackling over the line. "_I am now. What's the problem_?"

"Dick..." I closed my eyes. "It's AJ. Orm took him."

There was silence on the other end.

"Dick..?"

"_Where are you?_" He demanded. "_Are you hurt_?"

"I'm _fine_, Grayson." I lied through my teeth. "I'm going after them."

"..._No, Jill_. " I could almost hear Nightwing shake his head. "_Come back to the Cave. We'll contact the League and figure this thing out_."

"_No_!" I bit my tongue. "Please, Richard...I can...I can fix this. With your help, I can get him back. I know I can. After that...If Aquaman decides he doesn't trust me to take care of his son anymore..." I closed my eyes. "Well, then...That's okay. I'll deal with it."

"_Jill, please..." _Dick changed tactics_. "We need a plan. At least give me a few hours to.._."

"If your ass isn't over here in fifteen minutes, I'm leaving without you." I growled and switched off the communicator.

"Fifteen minutes..." I mused, smiling down at the bundle in my arms. "That's more than enough time to get you somewhere safe, right?"

Isabella just giggled and kicked her feet.

"You're so freaking cute..." I pressed a kiss to her forehead. "And when I see your daddy again, I'm gonna kick the shit out of him. Yes I am..." I cooed.

Cameron hadn't even stayed long enough to say goodbye.

I know that Joar keeps Cameron on a pretty short leash, even now that he's an adult. If he'd stayed too long, someone would've noticed his absence and reported it to Senior._ I know that_. Still...It would've been nice if he'd at least _offered_ to help me look for AJ.

And what's worse, Cam left me completely unprepared for this baby. I don't even have a crib for the poor kid to sleep in.

"We'll figure all that out later." I murmured, cradling the sleeping infant protectively against my chest. I inhaled deeply, drew Isabella closer, and stepped out of the alleyway and into the street.

"I hate this place..." I grumbled and tried to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

I was standing in the heart of the section of Star City known as "The Triangle;" a forgotten little place long fought over by three different organized crime factions, hence the name. It was a place that I always avoided, but there are some people I know that feel differently. I might seem like a hypocrite since I'm about to leave a baby with someone who lives in The Triangle, but I know I'm leaving her in capable hands. Isabella will be safe.

I was dressed inconspicuously enough, in an oversized sweatshirt and faded jeans, (with my gun tucked in the waistband, of course) but I still didn't like the way some people were looking at me, as it trying to decide whether or not I was worth robbing.

I kept my head down and hurried down the street, reaching the apartment building as fast as possible. I wasn't afraid, not for myself at least. But the Bat teaches all his little charges to be unhealthily paranoid, so it's second nature to be anxious in a place like this.

"This is no place to raise a child..." I muttered to myself, and then laughed at how ridiculous I sounded. "Oh, God, I'm turning into a parent..."

I shoved through a group of stragglers and bolted for the stairs, since I wasn't about to trust the elevator. "This place is depressing..." I whispered to Isabella when I reached the top floor and made my way down the off-white stucco hallway.

I stopped in front of the apartment door of Isabella's new babysitter and gave it a hesitant knock. The sound of movement came from inside the apartment, quickly followed by a brief, unintelligible conversation and the soft click of a gun being primed.

The door, however, remained closed.

I rolled my eyes. "Roy, open the goddamn door. I don't have time for this."

I waited while Roy unlocked the door and cracked it open just enough for me to see his eyes. I noted that they were bright and alert, not sunken and bloodshot like they'd been only a short time ago. Roy had gotten some sleep. "What do you want?" He grumbled.

"Nice to see you too, Red."

"What. Do. You. Want?"

"I'm calling in a favor." I answered simply. "Let me in."

"Listen, Jill, this _really_ isn't a good time." He mumbled and began shutting the door.

"I know about Lian, dumbass." I growled irritably. "Let me in."

Roy froze.

"What'd you say?"

"You heard me."

Roy reached out, seized me by my shirt collar, and hauled me inside his apartment. "Hey!" I shouted indignantly, shifting Isabella to my shoulder and glaring. Roy grunted in response and did up the locks on his door. All three of them.

"Paranoid much?" I smiled a little, turning to look over Roy's apartment. It was still a shithole, but it had been cleaned and decorated so that it almost resembled a home. The place had obviously received the much-needed touch of a woman.

He glared at me over his shoulder. "Jill, you..." His voice trailed off when he saw what I was holding. "...The fuck is that?"

"Hello to you to, Roy. I've been good, thanks for asking." I scoffed, flopping myself down on Roy's beaten-up little couch and resting my heels on the coffee table in front of me.

"By all means, make yourself at home." Roy said dryly, moving away from the door.

"I think I already did, thank you." I frowned at him, laying out Isabella's blanket on the couch beside me and settling her down on it. Isabella smiled up at me and sucked on her fist. Such a sweet baby.

"...Is that a child?" Roy stared at Isabella.

I just looked at him.

"...Is it _blue_?"

"No, Roy. She's a purple watermelon." I snarked.

"...So many questions..." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let's start with an easy one. Who told you about Lian?"

"No one did, Roy." A new voice joined the conversation. "She was there when Lian was born.

"Jade." I turned, giving the assassin a slight nod of acknowledgement.

"Jill." She returned the gesture, gently rocking little Lian in her arms.

"Woah, woah...what?" Roy frowned. "You two know each other?"

"Duh."

"Obviously."

"Sure, we're not exactly best buds. But, hell, she needed a midwife." I grinned, giving Jade a playful nudge.

"And unfortunately, Commando here was all I could get." She smirked.

"Jerkface."

"Why, thank you."

"Wait, go back...What?" Roy interrupted.

"Jade couldn't exactly go to a hospital. So I helped her out." I explained, shrugging.

"How do you even know how to deliver a baby? You're not a..." He whirled around. "Jade. The _fuck_."

"Relax, Roy." Jade rolled her eyes. "Believe it or not, Jill here actually knew what she was doing."

"Really?" He glanced over.

"Ayup."

"...How..?"

"...Okay, so it wasn't just me. I called in a few favors from some friends who knew what they were doing. I just kinda stood there for most of the delivery."

He glared at both of us. "And neither one of you saw anything wrong with this? What if something went wrong?"

I looked at Jade. "Feeling okay?"

"Yes."

"And what about you, Lian?" I smiled at the redheaded tot who was gleefully tugging on her mother's necklace.

"Everything seems fine to me, Roy-Boy."

"That is not the point."

"No." I agreed, reaching over to stroke Isabella's cheek. "It's not. Jade should've been in a real hospital, with a real doctor. She should've had prenatal care."

"Painkillers would've been nice." Jade added.

"But she didn't have any of that, Roy." I continued. "She couldn't. She's _Cheshire_, for fuck's sake. But she did the best she could, Roy."

"I just..."

"You worry too much." Jade murmured, shifting Lian to her shoulder and clasping Roy's hand in hers.

I smiled. When the League found out about Roy and Jade...about _Lian_...They were definitely going to be less than pleased. And when they found out I helped them...Well, at least Roy won't be the only one in the hot seat.

But I don't care. Let the League throw their hissy fit. Roy is happy. That's all that matters.

"Hate to break up the Hallmark moment here..." I chuckled. "But I need to get going."

"Then go." They didn't even glance in my direction.

"...Guys..." I snapped my fingers in front of their faces. "Hello?"

"Hm?" Roy glanced over.

I gestured to Isabella. "I need your help."

"Mind explaining why you even _have_ a baby first?" Roy scowled.

"She's not mine."

"Yeah, no shit. You'd need a man for that."

"Watch it, Red..."

Jade was staring at Isabella, head tilted slightly to the side, contemplating. "...No."

"What?"

She sighed. "Cameron Mahkent?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Yeah..."

Roy's eyes boggled, but Jade merely nodded. "Who's the mother?"

"He didn't specify. It doesn't matter anyway...she's dead."

"Poor kid..." Jade mused, and I couldn't tell if she was talking about Isabella, her mother, or Cameron himself. "And what is the name of this lovely little girl?"

"This is Isabella Rose. Y'see, I something I need to do, and I can't take her with me."

"So, you want us to watch her?" Roy questioned.

"Well, yeah." I laughed. "It's not like I can take a baby into the middle of a fight. What kind of irresponsible..." I paused when I saw Roy and Jade exchange glances. I frowned and looked over at Lian laying in her mother's arms, giggling.

"Oh, you _didn't_." I scowled.

Jade shrugged. Roy smiled a little.

"Of all the stupid..." I felt myself getting ready for a rant, and stopped. "Y'know what? Screw it. I don't have time for this." I thrust Isabella into Roy's arms. "If I find as much as a scratch on her when I get back, you're a dead man, Harper." I warned and stalked to the door.

"Hey!" He shouted after me. "We never agreed to this!"

I stopped at the door. "Look, I don't usually ask for anything in return when I help out a friend, but I'm making an exception because I _need help_. Both of you owe me a lot. I helped you two get married. I helped bring your daughter into the world."

Roy opened his mouth like he was going to object, but Jade elbowed him and he closed it again.

"I helped you. Now I need you to help me."

Roy looked down at the little girl in his arms, hesitated for a moment, and sighed. I smirked, knowing what the archer was going to say before he even opened his mouth. Roy pretends to be made of stone, but I know that has a big gooey soft spot when it comes to babies.

"Alright, Jill. How long are you gonna be gone?"

"Oh, just a few days. Maybe a week. A few months, at the most." I said briskly, giving Isabella a goodbye kiss on the cheek before turning to leave.

"Woah, what? A few _months_? Jill, wait. _Jill!" _He called.

But I was already gone.

* * *

I know this chapter is probably a disappointment after so long a wait, but...*shrugs*

Random: Chicken Wizzies. They were referenced in the episode where Wally was transporting a new heart for Queen Perdita. There, Chicken Wizzies appeared to be some kind of fast food. But Bart showed us that they can be freeze-dried and are sometimes sold in bags.

It's extremely fun to try and imagine what kind of food a Chicken Wizzy could be (This might just be because I'm easily amused) Obviously, it has something to do with chicken...And yes, I'm well aware I'm probably the only person who cares about this.


	4. The Little Mermaid

I know, I've been a terrible person. But it's like...the creative part of my brain has fallen asleep and will not wake up. Plus I'm sick because apparently my gym teacher doesn't understand that it's _REALLY_ FREAKING COLD OUTSIDE.

**Also, part of this chapter depends on my version of how the Team's communication devices work**. So yeah.

I'm thinking about writing a story that kind've ties in with this one. A collection of one- and two-shots of what-ifs. Like, what would've happened to Commando if she did this instead of that or if I tweaked one or two things about her or her past. Might even do some fics set in the future. Kind've a prequel to the fic I'm planning to write if Young Justice comes out with a third season. I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING. FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING FLUFFY, JADE. YOU CAN'T EVEN UPDATE THE STORIES YOU _ALREADY HAVE_. Yeah...this is just a thing to get the creative juices flowing again. Hopefully.

* * *

-_**Commando's Legacy-**_

_**Chapter Four: The Little Mermaid**_

* * *

I knew Nightwing was going to be angry with me. He had every right to be. I figured he'd rant and rave and get himself all red-faced and hysterical like he usually does, and then he'd calm down and we'd be okay again. He'd probably have a migraine for the rest of the day, but we'd be okay. That's how it's always worked out before.

But I didn't think he'd be so mad he wouldn't even _talk_ to me.

I clung to his back, the motorcycle helmet's straps buckled securely under my chin. Nightwing had given me the only helmet, but all that proves is that he doesn't want me dead. I guess that's something, at least. Shifting a little on the seat behind him, I peered over his shoulder to try and get an idea as to where we were going. All I saw was Nightwing's big hands wrapped firmly around the bike's handlebars, eyes locked on the road in front of us. He was _Batglaring_ again. Not good.

I meekly activated the comm. in my helmet. "_Dick_?"

He didn't even _grunt_.

"_C'mon, Dick. Don't be mad._" I sighed. "_...At least say _something."

"_Sorry_." He shrugged one shoulder. "_Not wearing a comm_."

_"I can see it in your ear, shitbird_." I flicked his earlobe irritably. "_Besides, you wouldn't've said anything if you hadn't heard me." _

"_Well, I sensed the intelligence in the air dropping, so I just assumed_..."

"_Fine. Be a dick_." I huffed. At least we were talking. Did it really matter what the conversation was about?

"_I am a Dick. Dick Grayson esquire, pleased to meet you."_

_"You're hilarious." _I rolled my eyes. "_Mind telling me where we're going now_?"

"_Just don't worry about it_. _Turn off your comm._"

"_Tell me what's going on and I will."_

"_No_."

"_Why not_?" I demanded.

_"Because...Because __you don't need to know_." He sputtered. "_Turn it_ off,_ Commando_!"

"_What d'you mean?" _I frowened. "_This is a rescue mission, right? Shouldn't I be prepared for-?"_

_"You don't need to know because you're _not helping_."_ He snapped_. "_I _will be going in to grab AJ. _You_ will stay outside and guard my bike."_

_"...Excuse me?" _My grip on Nightwing's shoulders turned painful.

_"I know exactly where AJ is. If you come along, you'll only get in the...I mean, you might get hurt." _

_"Nice save." _I muttered, loosening my hold_. "So tell me, O' Wise One. How'd you figure out where they took Junior?"_

He hesitated_. "A contact." _

_"Contact?" _I blinked_. "You don't have _contacts_. You're Nightwing. Y'know, Batman's good little turtledove."_

_"Look, I know a guy who knows a guy, okay?" _

_"...Do I also know this guy who knows a guy?"_

_He tensed up. "No."_

And apparently, that was the end of the conversation.

"_Heh. Okay then, Dickie Doodle_." I sniffed.

_"Good. Now, turn off your..."_

"_Alright_!_ Don't get your scaly underoos in a twist_." I muttered and did as Nightwing said.

I thought about trying to initiate conversation again, but the way Nightwing hunched his whole body over the handlebars told me he wasn't in a chatty mood. A few minutes later, just when I'd started to consider the possibility that Dick is a better liar then I thought and he really has no clue where we're going, Nightwing suddenly veered off to the side of the road and killed the engine. I let out an indignant shout that was quickly muffled by one of Nightwing's giant monkey hands as he pulled both of us off the bike and into a ditch. I hit hard, landing akwardly on my side with my arms and legs askew. Furious, I ripped off my helmet and threw it at Nightwing's head.

"What's _wrong_ with you, you stupid son of a-"

"Get _down_." He hissed and shoved me back into the dirt.

"What's going on?"

"_Quiet_. They'll hear you."

_They_? I tried to sit up, but Nightwing kept me pinned. Instead I laid very still, nose pressed into the mud, and _listened_. It sounded like people, five, maybe ten guys marching past our hiding place. They were speaking a language I knew, not English, but something else. Something familiar.

"_Nightwing_." I whispered frantically and tugged on his arm.

He glared at me.

"They're...They're _Atlantean_." My nails bit into his skin.

"I know. Now _hush_."

"Orm's men. Has to be." My eyes widened. "Dick, _the bike._ They're gonna see the bike!"

"_Shut up."_

Frustrated and annoyed, I shut up. When a few of Orm's guys stopped about five feet away from where we knelt, Dick's arms tightened painfully around my torso. They discussed something in hushed tones - the bike, most likely - before seemingly coming to some sort of agreement. It was then when I noticed there was something funny about the way they spoke. It was definitely Atlantean, but it sounded off. A different dialect, maybe? I wouldn't know. I'd need Aquaman or Mera to know for sure. I also realized that Nightwing squeezing me made it really, really hard to _breath_.

As soon as they were gone, Nightwing slid off me and helped me sit up. I slapped him.

"_Hey_! What was that for?" He scowled.

"_Never_ manhandle me like that again." I stuck my tongue out at him. "I'm a _woman_, dammit."

"But the _soldiers_... Ah, never mind." He huffed. "Please excuse my unacceptable behavior, Lady Jackson."

"That's better." I smirked. "So, Dickie, Tell me...How'd you know they were coming?"

"I heard them." He shrugged.

"Over the noise of the engine?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"...I didn't hear anything."

"I'm a _bat_, remember?" He smiled a little. "We hear _slightly_ better than you poor, half-deaf humans."

I arched an eyebrow at him. "_Very_ funny. But we both know that's not possible."

He shrugged. "Whatever you say, Co."

_There_. His eyes narrowed a bit and his head tilted slightly to the left, like he was concentrating on something else.

"Someone's talking to you." I eyed his earpiece suspiciously. "That's why you kept telling me to shut up and turn off my comm."

"Don't be ridiculous." He scoffed, but I could see the way his shoulders tensed.

I ripped Dick's comm. right out of his ear and pressed it into mine. I heard rustling and then the sharp click of someone disconnecting.

"_Commando!_" He snatched it back.

"...You're a filthy liar, Grayson." I stood up and brushed dirt off my pants. "Oh, and by the way, they stole your bike."

Nightwing shot up and gaped at the spot where his motorcycle used to be. "But... but my bike. _Mine_."

"It's okay, pal. Just ask your contact for help. He seems to have all the answers." I pulled a leaf out of my hair and looked at it. "Looks like we're gonna have to walk. Whoopsie Doodles."

"Commando, his intel is helping us find Arthur Junior."

"Who is _he_? How does he know so much? How do you even know we can _trust_...? Forget it, just _forget it_." turned around. "It doesn't matter anyway. You won't tell me."

"_Commando_."

"What?" I snapped.

He pressed a spare mask into my hand. "Just in case anyone sees you."

"Eh, not really my style." I put it on. "...I don't like this at all. I feel like a bug. When Batman gets back, we're gonna have to talk to him about the design."

He rolled his eyes and stalked off into the woods. "Follow me. We're almost there."

I won't pretend like I didn't want to beat him into a pulp, because I did. I should be given an award for the amount of restraint I exhibited that day. Sighing dramatically, I turned and trotted after him. When the woods started to get a bit dense, I stuck close to his side so he could deflect the brambles away from me with his face. I pulled my gun out and ran my fingers over the barrel, frowning. I hadn't brought enough ammo for a fight. I could fight hand-to-hand if I had to, but if they had weapons...

"Put that thing away. You won't need it." Nightwing settled his hand over mine on the gun.

I jerked away. "Better be safe than Swiss cheese, 'Wing."

"Have you ever considered using something besides guns?"

The question threw me. "..Well, no. Not really. Why would I?"

"You know Bats doesn't like guns."

"Yeah, I know, I just..." I looked down at the firearm in my hand. "Batman and I have already had this conversation, Dick. He knows I don't use real bullets."

Nightwing shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"...They're all I know how to fight with, Grayson."

"I know, I know, don't get all defensive about it. We're just talking."

"Okay then."

"But... Don't you think the cloak is a bit too theatrical, at least?"

"This coming from the boy raised by a guy who runs around dressed like a bat?"

"Just saying. Maybe you should consider upgrading."

"No." I scowled. "Never in a million years, Grayson."

"I swear, you're just like Superboy with his t-shirts."

"...What's your point?"

"_Why?"_

I shrugged. "I don't like change, Grayson. Neither does he." _And you know exactly _why_, you ass._

"Why are you so attached to that thing?"

"My cloak?" I exhaled slowly. "I, uh...Have you ever read _The Highwayman_ by Alfred Noyes?"

"I think so. It's a poem, right?"

I nodded. It was so much more than a _poem,_ but he was _technically _right, I suppose. "When I was a kid, my grandmother had this little poem book that she'd read to me. 'Course, when I was a toddler, I didn't really understand it, but...y'know..."

"I know." He said, and I believed him. "But...you do know that poem's about _death_, right?"

"It's about _love_, Grayson." I corrected. "Eternal love and sacrifice and...I'm just gonna shut up now. I sound like a swooning schoolgirl."

"No, no, keep going. What was that you were saying about _love_?" He dragged out the word and rested his hands over his heart.

"Shut up, Dick." I gave him a playful shove.

"Did you just say my name, or were you being rude again?" He asked with false innocence.

"_Anyways_." I rolled my eyes. "In the poem, the Highwayman wore a coat of claret velvet. Sounded pretty, I guess."

"So, what, you opted for a cloak instead?"

"_Actually,_" I smiled sheepishly. "When I was younger, it _was_ a coat. But I was so little it came down past my knees. When I got a little older...I was used to it, I guess. So I switched to cloaks."

"Awww..." He gushed.

"Shove it, Grayson. You cried at the end of _Flowers for Algernon_."

"_Don't talk about it."_

_"_Oh, stop it, you're not _that_ sensitive."

He just rolled his eyes and stopped, making me bump into him. "Alright, Co..." He pointed through the trees. "The rendezvous point is right over there. Some old tuna factory, I think. Abandoned, or at least it used to be."

"The fish people are hiding out in a place where they used to slice up fish and cram them into tiny cans?" I quirked an eyebrow. "That makes sense."

"Commando, I didn't _pick_ where... _We're wasting time." _He shook his head. "Sit tight. I'll be right back."

"Sit tight?" I scowled. "What am I, ten?"

"_Please_?"

I sighed. "Fine, fine. But if anyone asks, I kicked some major fishbutt."

"Wouldn't want to ruin your reputation."

"Exactly." I smiled and watched him duck into the trees and disappear. Almost instantly, I felt restless. I should be going along. I was the one who was supposed to be watching AJ. It's my fault he's in danger, not Nightwing's. I squeezed my eyes shut. If I'd only threw Cameron out instead of letting him stay and talk, this wouldn't have happened. I should've called the League and let them deal with him. That's what you're supposed to do when you see a meta-human wanted in several different countries. Especially if you're supposedly one of the good guys. Good guys don't voluntarily let the bad guy go.

But Cam's my friend, my _best_ friend. And then there's Isabella I have to think about. She hasn't done anything wrong. I can't punish an innocent child for something that wasn't her fault.

If the League finds out what I did...

"Oh, God..." I wrapped my arms around myself. If they find out, it's all over. They could excuse that kind of behavior when I was a kid, partially because Canary convinced them I was just a confused little girl who didn't know any better. But now...Now I'm eighteen. A legal adult. They'd expect me to put my personal feelings aside and do what was best for everyone, not just myself.

_Snap._

I was on my feet in an instant, my gun primed and ready in my hand. _Probably just a squirrel._ I told myself. _Calm down, Co. You're freaking out over nothing._

The forest rustled worryingly. Might just be a deer. Might not.

Mindful of the noisy underbrush that could give me away, I crept out from behind a tree and towards the source of the noise. What I saw made my blood freeze in my veins.

Two of Orm's guys - probably higher-ups considering the way they swaggered - shepherding a thin, blonde child deeper into the forest.

_AJ. _My throat closed up.

That couldn't be right. Nightwing had gone to get AJ. Nightwing _knew_ where he was, his contact had told him. Nightwing had gone _the other way_.

Nightwing...Nightwing was wrong.

His contact must've been untrustworthy after all. Or...Or whoever he is didn't know that they were moving Arthur Junior. Maybe Orm knew we were here somehow and ordered his guys to grab the prince and go.

Whatever the case, I knew I had to do something.

I bit the inside of my cheek. I couldn't fight off an entire army. I could take down those two no problem, but the noise would attract more. And what about Nightwing? What if I put him in danger? I needed time to think.

AJ tripped over a tree root, crying out as he fell. One of the soldiers grabbed him and jerked him up into the air by his arm. He screamed.

That made up my mind for me.

"Oh, I don't _think_ so, pal." I growled and sprang from my place behind the trees. The guy that grabbed Junior picked the frightened child up, tossed him over his shoulder and took off. The other rushed me. I aimed a bullet at his leg - shockers, designed to paralyze, not kill. I took off again before his body even hit the ground.

As soon as I was close enough to get a clear shot, I fired. The man went down, landing on top of AJ. I rolled him off and scooped the trembling child up into my arms. He struggled a bit before he realized who I was and squeezed me tight.

"AJ..." I choked back a sob. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"S'okay." He whimpered. "Can we go home now?"

"Of course." I set him back on his feet. "We just have to go find Nightwing and then..."

Before I could complete the sentence, something slammed into my side and sent me hurtling face first into the dirt. My first thought was that Nightwing was being an idiot again and playing some kind of joke. But then I felt the barrel of a gun nuzzle the back of my head and I realized there was absolutely nothing funny going on.

"You're gonna regret that one, kid." The soldier hissed. "By the time I'm done with you, your own mother won't be able to recognize you."

Foggily, I thought that it was far more likely that my mother wouldn't recognize me because she'd been hitting the happy juice all day, not because of anything he could do. I opened my mouth to tell him this, but I never had the chance.

"_Get away from her."_ The weight on my back suddenly disappeared, allowing my lungs room to breath again. I turned just in time to see a flash of gray and the soldier's body crumbling to the ground.

After that, things got kind of messy.

Soldiers poured into the clearing. I shoved AJ towards Nightwing and scrambled back to my feet. After that, I lost sight of both of them. But I didn't have any time to worry about it. I trusted that Nighwting would get AJ to safety. I aimed carefully, trying to hit as many guys as possible and not waste bullets. When one of the guys got too close, I lashed out with my gun or my fists. Even so, I felt myself getting backed up against a tree.

_Don't let them corner_ _you._ My brain screamed. _And don't get locked down to one opponent. If you do, you're good as dead._

I raised my gun, and then...

_Click._ It felt like a dagger had been plunged into my chest. Hoping again hope, I squeezed the trigger again. _Click.  
_  
Out of bullets, out of luck. Unloaded, my gun was just a useless hunk of metal. The henchmen, realizing I was at a sudden disadvantage, circled me like a pack of sharks. I couldn't see their faces behind the helmets they wore, but I suspected they were grinning. I took a step back, muscles tensed in case they made any sudden moves. One of them darted suddenly to the right and, like an idiot, I let my eyes follow him.

That was all the opportunity they needed to grab me. I struggled until one of them raised his weapon and brought it down with a resounding _crack_ onto my skull. My vision blurred and I felt myself go limp in their arms. My attempts to fight back became nothing more than a feeble protest, and even that took more energy than I had. Before I let myself sink into the sweet relief of unconsciousness, I mustered up my last bit of strength and called out to Nightwing.

He never answered.

* * *

Randomfuntime~: Okay. When Cheshire made her appearance during _True Colors,_ am I the only one who thought "Oh my god. Roy's home alone with the baby. Call the fire department."

Also, Arsenal's new haircut makes his head look like a peanut. I'm sorry, but it does. He probably shaved it so he wouldn't look like his clone anymore, I can understand that. But I don't have to like it. About Arsenal...he worries me. He has a completely understandable reason for being angry at Lex, and for not feeling too terribly inclined to help the League considering they didn't do a whole lot to try and find him. I'm not saying they didn't try, calm down.

Tim's reaction was interesting though. He lied to Nightwing so he wouldn't know that Arsenal was to blame for the mission going bad. But why? If he did it out of concern for Arsenal, you'd think Tim would know that the best thing for him would be to let someone know he's got some problems. Without help, he's just going to get worse. It just doesn't make any sense. What do you guys think?


	5. Neptune's Beard

Trying super hard to update.

Also, I'm experimenting with a different writing style in this chapter. Don't hate me.

* * *

-_**Commando's Legacy-**_

_**Chapter Five: Neptune's Beard**_

* * *

When I woke up, my whole body ached. For one brief, blurry moment, my brain told me that I was still back at the lighthouse and that I had to get up before AJ did, so I could get started on breakfast. It's really hard to get that boy out of bed without the promise of pancakes.

And then I opened my eyes.

I was in a concrete room with damp, moldy walls and a low ceiling. The air smelled like rotten fish. I braced myself and flipped over onto my stomach, immediately spotting the grid of thick bars on the other side of the room. A prison cell.

"That's _fantastic_." I muttered and cradled my throbbing head.

"Finally awake?" A voice called.

I shot up like I bullet, hand instinctively going to my waist.

"What're you gonna do? Shoot me?" He snorted. "Good luck. They took your weapon."

"Oh, God, it's _you_." I groaned and sank back to the ground. "This day is just getting worse and _worse_."

I always said I'd stab myself in the face if I was ever trapped in a room with Lagoon Boy for longer than twenty minutes. I guess the universe heard me and decided to see whether or not I was bluffing.

"Nice to see you too." La'gann commented dryly. "_Please_ tell me you're not my rescue."

"Good news for you then, Fishstick." I scoffed.

"You...weren't grabbed while trying to save me from Manta?"

"No."

Something flashed across Lagoon Boy's face. An emotion I couldn't identify. "So then why _are _you here?"

"Not for your company, that's for sure." I mumbled.

"Know what I think?" He went on. "I think you tried to join Manta's legion of lowlifes, but they didn't trust you so they threw you in here with me instead."

I narrowed my eyes at him, but said nothing. He wasn't worth a response.

It's funny, in a way. I didn't always hate the little ingrate. When we first met, he respected me as an experienced hero and an associate of the Justice League. But then he found out that I'd spent most of my life as a thief, and the respect disappeared. He acted like I _lied _to him somehow. My past was common knowledge among the members of the Team as well as the League. I've _never_ tried to pretend that I'm something I'm not.

"AJ was kidnapped by Ocean Master." I said bluntly. "I was trying to save him, but that didn't pan out so well."

"You let the prince get _captured_?" La'gann hissed. "I knew you couldn't be trusted. The King is going to be—"

"—Furious." I finished for him. "The King is going to be furious. He probably won't let me take care of AJ anymore." I sat up and laid my head against the wall behind me. "There's nothing I can do about it now, Catfish."

"Shouldn't have left the prince in the care of something with a criminal record in the first place." Lagoon Boy scowled.

"That was Aquaman's decision, La'gann. Not yours. I suppose you can tell him _I told you so _when all of this blows over."

He said nothing.

"What?"

"You said you were captured by Ocean Master?"

"Yeah?"

"Then why are you on one of _Black Manta's_ prison ships?"

"...Good question." I frowned. "Hate to admit you're right about anything, Fish—but hey, even a stopped clock is right twice a day."

"You think this is funny?"

"No." I shook my head. "It's not, really, but..."

"Two of the King's enemies associating _can't_ be good."

"They both have a reason to want AJ out of the picture." I mused. "Maybe that's why. They've teamed up, and after Orm's guys grabbed me they saw that they didn't really have a place to keep prisoners for a long period of time, but..."

"But Black Manta does."

"Exactly." I agreed.

"_Neptune's Beard_." He slammed his fist into the wall. "They've probably already killed him by now..."

"Not necessarily." I smiled a bit. "Nightwing was with me when I got grabbed. He's not here, so he must've gotten away with AJ."

"Or maybe he's being held somewhere else."

"We need to hope for the better."

"Hope is pointless." Lagoon Boy grumbled. "It's _action _that gets things done."

"You wouldn't do very well in the Blue Lantern Corps, I don't think." I muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

* * *

A week later, I still hadn't murdered Lagoon Boy in his sleep.

Black Canary would be so proud.

"Dinner." Someone hissed on the other side of the bars. "Boss man still wants you two alive, congratulations."

I pulled myself to my feet and went over to get the food. I usually did, since Lagoon Boy seems to have completely given up. Takes me about an hour just to convince him to _look_ at me, let alone eat. I took the tray from the solider—scratch that, this wasn't one of Manta's endless goons. This was a girl, not much older than me, with jet-black hair and a tiger-themed costume.

"What are you supposed to be?"

She blinked, once, twice, and scowled. "They call me Tigress."

"Hm." I frowned. "That sounds familiar."

She stiffened. "I'm a popular person."

"What happened to the regular guy?" I smiled. "Or, is this him?" I gestured to the tray.

The woman snorted and walked away. Shrugging, I shuffled over to where Lagoon Boy was and crouched down, setting the tray on the ground in front of him and went about dividing up the food between the two of us. Anything that didn't absolutely need to be eaten right then, the non-perishables and things that would last longer than a few days, I squirreled away in the little bag I made by ripping the hood off my sweatshirt.

"Why do you do that?" Lagoon Boy asked. I jumped. It was the first thing he'd said in days.

"You know why. If they stop feeding us..."

"No, not that. _That._ What you just did with that woman. How can you joke around like...like...?" Lagoon Boy shook his head. "Like we're not in _way_ over our heads."

"You can't let them know you're afraid, Catfish." I looked away.

"...Are you really?"

"Of course I am." I admitted softly. "But I don't know how to deal with that, so I push it away. You should to."

Lagoon Boy said nothing. I thought he'd retreated into himself again, so I took my share and went back over to my corner to eat. Movement on the other side of the cell caught my eye, and I looked up just in time to see La'gann bring a prawn up to his lips and take a huge, famished bite.

I consider that a personal victory.

* * *

"_But I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more_." I half-sang, half-hummed while playing with a tear in my jeans. "_To be the man who walked 1,000 miles to fall down at your door."_

"I didn't know you sang." Lagoon Boy startled me out of my daydream.

"Hm?" I blinked. "Oh, I don't, really. I'm just bored."

"You have a nice voice."

"You don't know you're talking about." I chuckled. "You grew up underwater. Dolphin noises sound like music to you."

"First of all, that's not true. And second, it's called _sonar_."

"Well..." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Thanks, I guess."

I'm not sure I liked the way he smiled at me. It was too much like the way he used to smile at M'gann.

* * *

"What was your childhood like?" La'gann suddenly asked me.

"...Where'd that come from?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Just wondering."

"Well..." I laughed a bit. "Wasn't good. Involved a lot of running and hiding. But you already knew that."

"Anything happy you remember?"

"Of course..." I smiled. "Spending time with my team, obviously. After we got the little kids to bed, we used to sit around and tell ghost stories. Mine were always the best."

"What about that blue kid with the white hair, what was his deal?" La'gann sat up. "He's your friend, isn't he?"

I sighed. "Yes, he is."

"You don't sound very happy about it."

"Cameron can be...difficult." I rubbed the back of my neck. "But you gotta love him."

"Really?" La'gann raised an eyebrow. "And why's that?"

"Don't start with me, La'gann, I'm not in the mood."

"I'm just asking. From what I've heard, you have more reason to hate him than anyone else."

"...What do you mean?" I furrowed my brow.

"You vouched for him with the League, helped him escape jail time and gave him a place to stay—far away from his father. And how does he repay you? By stabbing you in the back."

"_Stop_." I scowled. "Just stop."

"He almost got you killed. And now, the League barely trusts you."

"You don't know anything, Catfish." I hugged my knees to my chest.

"Oh really?" He laughed bitterly. "Did you know that they offered League memberships to all the senior members of the team? That is, all of them except you."

"_You don't know anything, La'gann_." I hissed. "So keep your mouth _shut _and mind your own fucking business."

"Okay, Okay..." He mumbled. "I'm sorry. Forget I said anything."

I crawled away from him and huddled in the corner, face buried in my arms so La'gann couldn't see my tears. Everyone pretended like it didn't happen like that, like I turned _down_ the offer like Nightwing and the others did. That couldn't be farther from the truth. When the League was discussing new members and my name came up, they decided I couldn't be trusted.

It wasn't unanimous, but I don't care. Because I know how Batman voted. And that hurts worse than I'd ever admit.

* * *

"..._Commando_?"

La'gann's voice sounded distant, like he was shouting through a tunnel. I tried to answer him, but found that I didn't have the energy. I was so tired, but when I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep, I felt La'gann's scaly arm wrapping around my shoulders, propping me up.

"'M _fine_, La'gann." I mumbled irritably. "Just lemme sleep."

La'gann pressed his hand against my forehead, dry scales scratching my skin. "You're burning up."

"Prob'ly just a bit o' bad fish." I batted his hand away.

"Commando, you're _sick_." He forced me to lay down. I didn't fight him on it.

The next few days passed by in a blur. I kept slipping in and out of consciousness, vaguely aware of La'gann flitting in and out of view—popping tiny bits of food into my mouth, pressing a wet rag against my forehead. One day I mustered up enough strength to lift my head. I felt oddly proud of myself, like I'd accomplished a nearly impossible feat. My elation died when I saw La'gann crouched on the other side of the cell, rooting through my meager food storage.

"What..." I wheezed. "What are you doing?"

He jerked in surprise. Understandable, since I hadn't moved like that in days. "Go back to sleep."

"_What are you doing_?"

"You need to keep your strength up." He pulled out a hunk of bread and examined it.

"That's for _emergencies_." I struggled to sit up. "

"This _is_ an emergency."

"'M feelin' much better, Catfish."

"Oh really?" He dropped my bag and made his way back over to me.

"_Yes_." I insisted.

Lagoon Boy blinked, once, twice, then reached forward, grabbed the front of my sweatshirt—and pushed me over. I felt like a turtle knocked on its back—arms and legs flailing and unable to right myself. "I hate you."

"Just proving a point, _chum_."

* * *

"What's your name?"

"My name?" I knit my eyebrows together, confused. "You feeling alright, Fishface? You already know my name."

He shook his head. "Not your codename. You're _real_ name. The one you were born with."

"Oh..." I scratched my cheek. "It's Jill. Jill Jackson."

"Weird name."

"What?" I laughed. "This coming from the dude called _La'gann_? Your name sounds like some kind of greek soap."

"Jill is the name of that stupid little girl from the nursery rhyme. You're named after an imbecile that watched her brother smash his head open and wasn't smart enough to learn from his mistake."

I . "Jack didn't _fall down,_ genius. Jill pushed him."

"Whatever you say. I still think your mother's a nut."

I took my breath. "My mom...My mom didn't name me."

"Really? Why not?"

"Didn't want to."

"Oh..." He was quiet for a bit. "Then who did?"

"My grandmother." I smiled. "She was the best. She used to make me potato candy every time I went to visit—_man_ that stuff's good."

"Potato...candy?" La'gann frowned. "Does that really exist?"

"Yup." I smiled dreamily. "Google it."

"...Sounds gross."

"You take that back. _It's the greatest thing ever__ and you aren't allowed to say any different."_

_"Okay, Okay._ Calm down."

"I haven't had it in _years_. Meg tried to make it for me one year for Thanksgiving...Didn't turn out so well."

"What happened?" He chuckled.

"Oh, it was inedible." I winced. "I snuck it to Wolf when she wasn't looking. I'm pretty sure it gave him indigestion."

"...I miss M'gann." He murmured, almost to himself.

I rolled my eyes and let out an indignant huff. Unfortunately, he noticed. "What?"

"Nothin'."

"Don't lie to me. You got something to say, Commando? Let's hear it."

"_Fine_." I growled. "You and M'gann getting together was the absolute _worst_ thing to ever happen to the team. And that _includes_ Nightwing becoming leader."

"You don't know anything." La'gann balled his hands into fists. "We're good together. We—"

"You are fucking _not_, La'gann." I hissed. "You spend _so much time _worrying about your _Angelfish, _what _Angelfish_ is doing, where _Angelfish_ is and who she's with." I scoffed. "You're a controlling asshole, La'gann."

"I have _never_ mistreated M'gann."

"That's the thing, La'gann. _It's not just you._ M'gann does it too."

"What do you mean?"

"She doesn't like you, Fish. Not really. She's just using you to get back at Conner."

"Shut up." He growled.

"You're just mad because you know I'm right.

"You're one to talk." La'gann spat. "You've been mooning over Nightwing for _years, _and what do you have to show for it? Nothing better to do than mess with other people's relationships and wallow in your own misery because no one loves poor little Commando. It's your own damn fault."

My eyes blazed. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to wrap my arms around his throat and _squeeze_ until he stopped kicking. Instead, I moved to the other side of the cell and curled into a ball.

La'gann was just a stupid human fish with control issues. What the fuck does he know.

* * *

"C'mon, La'gann. I said I was sorry."

"Don't talk to me."

Word of advice, if you're ever locked in a room with somebody for any extended period of time, don't make them mad. It might seem worth it at the time, but it's counterproductive. Because afterwards, when you stop feeling mad and start feeling lonely, they usually don't want anything to do with you.

"I didn't mean it, dude. I just... I'm tired and dirty and I want to _go home_. I'm frustrated. And I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

"You didn't say anything that wasn't true."

The despair in his voice surprised me.

"La'gann?"

"Just leave me alone."

"At least _eat, _dude."

"What's the point?"

That scared me. "C'mon, please?"

"Why _should_ I, Jill?" He sighed. "I've got nothing to live for. The girl of my dreams doesn't really love me. My King will never see me as anything but Aqualad's replacement. I don't have any real friends, and I—"

I didn't think. I just reacted.

Before La'gann could get the last sentence out, I'd seized him by the shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss.

* * *

A lot of noise. Flashing lights. Sirens. Soldiers poring into my cell, yanking me and La'gann to our feet and shoving us down the hallway. We were being moved. Where? Why? I looked around, trying to make sense of the chaos. A gun prodded me in the back, threatening me into scurrying after La'gann.

"D'you think it's our rescue?" I whispered to Lagoon Boy, not daring to hope.

"Maybe."

They led us along, smacking the back of our legs with their guns if we slowed. They were maintaining a brisk pace, difficult for La'gann and I to match in our weakened state. Still, we managed to keep up without getting hit too many times. When the soldiers in front of us suddenly stopped, I was grateful for the reprieve. And then I realized where we were.

They'd taken us to the top deck. Sunlight beat down on me, warming my pale, clammy skin. _Too bright_. I covered my eyes. Too much light after so much darkness. One of the soldiers shoved me, and at first I complied, but then...

I saw it. Big, black and menacing. A submarine.

If our rescue really _was_ here, then this might be our only chance to escape. If not...If there's something wrong with the ship and we're being evacuated, then any resistance on my part could doom us both. Did I really have the authority to risk La'gann's life like that?

I made my decision quickly.

_"No!"_ I screamed. "No no _no!" _

Soldiers grabbed my arms and legs, prepared to literally _throw_ me in. I shrieked like I was being murdered, punched and kicked them with all I had. Even tried to bite them. Everything and anything I could think of to delay them. La'gann followed my example, screaming like a banshee.

"_Just shoot them_."

And suddenly, they dropped me. My head cracked against the deck, making my vision swim. A flurry of activity was happening above me, but I couldn't focus on any of it. And then, a voice.

"_Commando? Commando, are you alright?"_

"Nightwing?" I squinted at him.

"You're gonna be okay, just don't—"

I wasn't listening. By the time he'd wrapped me up in his arms, I'd already gone limp and let myself drift away.

* * *

"Good morning, beautiful. How'd you sleep?"

_Nightwing_?

"Wha—?"

"It's me, cuttlefish."

"L..._La'gann_?!"

"The one and only." He reached down to steal another kiss. I shoved him away.

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?"

"Oh, please. Don't pretend like you didn't kiss me when we were imprisoned together." He grinned. "It's okay, darling. I know I'm irresistible."

"You think...I don't...we're not..." I blinked rapidly, desperately reaching for the call button. Maybe one of the nurses would _kill_ him for me.

"I get it, I get it. You need to rest." He winked at me. "See ya around, cuttlefish. Love you."

Lagoon Boy loves me.

Lagoon Boy _loves_ me.

Fuck.

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER**:

Just to be clear. Commando does _not_ love Lagoon Boy. She just did that to knock him out of his depression. Well...it worked.

Cuttlefish= Cuddle + Fish. I feel like such a loser, but it's the best I can think of. -_-

Also, parts of this chapter were intentionally supposed to be foggy and confusing. Don't know how well I did, but I tried.

Randomfun: Dude. What if. What if Wolf is really a Wolfette and one day she's going to meat Krypto and they'll have awesome mutant superdog puppies. I WANT ONE.

Truthfully, I don't know where this came from. I guess I was just tired of Lagoon Boy having no redeeming traits at all. Maybe I just enjoy making things difficult for my characters. I dunno.


	6. All My Enemies Against Me

No news on what happened at the meeting yet. If any of you find something out, let me know?

* * *

_**-Commando's Legacy-**_

_**Chapter Six: All My Enemies Against Me.**_

* * *

When you feel like your whole world is crashing down around you and you're absolutely helpless to stop it, I've found that beating the crap out of something helps lower the stress.

Pain exploded in my side as a metal bat made contact with my ribcage. I gasped and rolled off to the side, knocking the man's legs out from under him with my foot and aiming a swift kick to his forehead. Scrambling to my feet, I took cover behind a packing crate and gingerly prodded my ribs a bit. Not broken, but they'd definitely be sore for a few days.

_Fantastic. _I winced. Shaking off the pain, I leaped to the side to avoid getting brained by some thug with a bad crew cut and a crowbar. I froze for half a second, just staring at it, and swallowed hard. _Crowbar. _If I hadn't realized what I was doing at the last moment and jumped away, he would've cracked my head open. _Don't do that again_. I scolded myself. _Unless you're dying to know what it feels like to have the top of your skull lobbed off._

I scooped the baseball bat off the floor and used it to knock the crowbar out of Crew Cut's hands. Smiling, I punched him right between the eyes and kicked him in the stomach as he went down. If he wasn't unconscious before, cracking his head on the pavement when he fell definitely did the trick.

"C'mon, guys." I exaggerated a yawn. "I'm getting bored here."

I was, really. This fight was dragging on longer than I expected it to. I kicked the man closest to me in the stomach and pressed the barrel of my gun against the back of his head. And hesitated. I couldn't help but think how easy it'd be—how incredibly, frighteningly, easy—to fire a bullet, a real one, into his skull. How easy it'd be to just kill him. I cracked the butt of my gun against the back of his head and moved on.

The last guy, who was maybe just a smidgeon on the tubby side, bellowed like a stabbed pig and charged at me. It might've been intimidating, but his big bald head and generous middle only made it look ridiculous. I fired a paralyzing dart at him—something new I'm trying out—and watched him stumble over his own feet and fall over. I stretched, hating the way my muscles still felt unused and weak from my time under the ocean. Nightwing ordered me not to push myself, but honestly, the fight was just an exercise.

"_Hey, Harper_." I pulled out my communicator and stepped over a few bodies. _"How's it going?" _

"_Where _are_ you_?"

I sighed. Roy hasn't been very happy with as of late. I can't really say I blame him either. The man's been a father for only a few months and now he has two screaming babies in his apartment. He's been surprisingly generous so far, keeping Isabella for me while I was recuperating in the hospital. But I'm fine now, so he expects me to come and collect my child. "_I'm traveling, Roy Boy. I'm gonna visit the World's Largest Ball of Twine next._"

I could practically hear the glare.

"_Okay, okay. I'm in __Blüdhaven. Trying to get back into the swing of things_."

"..._Oh, I'm _sorry_."_ His voice dripped with sarcasm. "_I thought for a second that I was taking care of a child for you while you're off doing God knows what. My mistake."_

"_Red, you know I don't have a place for her right now."_

_"I don't either, Commando."_

_"I'm paying you, aren't I?"_

_"That's not the point_."

I sighed. "_Just give me a little more time, okay?"_

"_You have till the end of the month_. _Get your shit together, or I'm calling Dinah_." He disconnected.

"...I'm going to break his neck." I grumbled.

I know I wasn't being fair. But the truth is, I don't have a home for Isabella right now. I don't even really have a home for _me._ Aquaman kicked me out. He said it was clear that I couldn't handle protecting a prince, and that he couldn't put his son, or me, at risk any longer. Mera was apologetic, but she agreed with her husband. They said I had a few hours to gather up my stuff, but they made it clear they wanted me to clear out as soon as possible. Since then, I've been bouncing around from Ollie and Dinah's in Star to my dad's place in Central. Stayed with Mike a few times, too, but he's too busy anymore to be very good company.

I was going to just have to suck it up and get an apartment. Maybe start up my own babysitting service, or go to college online and finally get Nightwing and Black Canary to shut up about it. I took a deep, calming breath and made another call. "_Hey, Dad?"_

_"Jill?"_ He sounded frustrated, and flustered. "_Where are you? You were supposed to be here over an hour ago, Melissa is—"_

"_I know, Dad. Work needed me to stay late." _

_"Are you alright?"_

"_I'm fine. Listen, can you pick me up behind the grocery?"_

_"The one near the house_?"

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from being sarcastic. "_Yeah."_

_"...Where are you?"_

"_I'll tell you what happened later, Dad. Okay?"_

_"Okay_." He agreed reluctantly. "_I'll be there in about twenty minutes_. _Please be there_."

"_I will, I will." _I promised_. "When have I ever let you down?...On second thought, don't answer that." _I ripped the comm. device out of my ear and jammed it into my pocket. Rubbing my forehead to alleviate the pain, I went over to the nearest store and told the owner—who was trying to close up for the night when I caused a commotion behind his store and asked him if he could please call the cops to pick up the trash in back. He didn't say anything, but the way he smiled made me feel pretty good. And then, I walked the distance to the nearest zeta tube. Couldn't exactly take a bus, dressed like this.

I knelt behind the dumpster, pulling out the clothes I left there—carefully wrapped in several plastic bags, obviously. I took off my cloak and the mask and stuffed them into a bag, tucking them under my arm and dragging the t-shirt and sweats on over my jumpsuit. Batman wouldn't approve—taking off my mask in the open like that. But hey, the League wouldn't put a zeta tube in an unsecure place, would they?

I came out on the other end, slightly dizzy from the transport. Shoving a trash can out of my way, I balled my bag up in my hands and made my way over to the grocer. A kid with a Robin doll—excuse me, _action figure_—darted past me. A woman who I assumed was his mother jogged after him, trying to call him back while carrying the boy's younger sister on her hip.

_Dear lord, that's me in five years. _I winced and went behind the store, chewing on a piece of Flaming C gum. Dad was already there, of course, and he didn't look happy.

"I said _twenty minutes._" He frowned at me when I crawled into the passenger seat.

"Sorry, I was busy fighting to make the world a safer place, save lives, put away criminals. You know, selfish, trivial things."

"Don't get smart with me." He snapped. I leaned my forehead against the window and just let him rant. It wasn't worth it to argue with him, it wouldn't have gotten me anywhere anyway. Nowadays, Dad's always right, and that's all there is to it. I blame Melissa for that. She's been giving him tips on how to be a father.

"—Anyways." He calmed himself down. "How've you been? How's work?"

"Pretty good." I shrugged. "Kinda stressful since we're a little short staffed as of right now, but whatever. Nothing we can't handle."

"That's good." He smiled.

"So...how's Melissa?" I asked the obligatory question.

"She's fantastic. Asks about you all the time."

"Oh really?" I looked over at him, doing my best to seem interested.

"She's really great, Jill." He sighed. "I really want you to like her...Do you?"

"I don't... _dislike_ her." I said carefully.

"What's that mean?"

"It means...I don't know how I feel about her. She's just... the lady that's dating my dad."

"—I suppose that's fair." He conceded. "But it'd mean a lot to me if you'd try harder with her...Oh, and could you please talk to your sister?"

"What's wrong with Kota?"

"She's...having some difficulties. She won't talk to me."

"Might have something to do with the fact that you made her change schools in the middle of her freshman year?"

"Jill, that's not fair. You know they offered me a better job here, and I—"

"I know that." I held up a hand to stop him. "But to _Dakota_, it looks like you moved just to be closer to _her_."

"The fact that Melissa lives around here has nothing to do with—"

"Really, Dad?" I leveled him with a look. "I'll believe it's not the whole reason, but you won't convince me Melissa had _nothing_ to do with the move." He started to object again, but I'd already turned away from him. He got the hint and shut up. When we reached the house, I jumped out and rushed into the house without saying a word to him.

I found Dakota lounging on the love seat, texting with her headphones in. I poked her in the ribs to get her attention. She jumped, startled, then scowled up at me before she realized who I was and tackled me in a hug. "Jill!" She exclaimed, phone clattering to the floor. "I missed you. Why didn't you call first? I could've planned something for you, jerk."

I smiled. That's how I know Dakota really loves me. She calls me mean names and is willing to put down her phone to talk to me, at least for a little bit. "Where's Tyler?" I knew he wasn't there the second I walked in. There were no explosions and gunshots coming from the living room, so he wasn't home playing videogames. That's practically the only thing the boy does.

"He's working." She shrugged.

I rolled my eyes. _"Working."_

"It's as much of a job as what you do."

"Shut up. We're not talking about me."

Dakota just laughed and picked her phone up off the floor, tucking it in her pocket. "So..." I began. "Dad tells me you're being a grump."

"Grump?"

"Trying to clean up my language a bit, sue me. What's up?"

She sighed. "Just...trouble making friends, is all."

"I know it's rough, kid..."

She snorted. "No offence, Jill. But how could you know what I'm going through?"

I raised my eyebrows a her. "How about I was forced to uproot my _entire_ life, live with people I didn't even really know, and watch the only family I had at the time taken away from me? All at the tender of thirteen, might I add. Are we _really_ going to go there, Kota?"

She winced. "...I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"It's fine." I frowned. "Go easier on Dad, Dakota. He's been...difficult lately, I know, but he's not the bad guy here...And _no_—that's not me giving you permission to be mean to Melissa."

Dakota crossed her arms in front of her chest. "_Fine_..."

"Thank you." I smiled.

"Dakota? Is someone here?" A female voice called from the bathroom. My eyes widened and I took off up the stairs and went to my room. That is, the room I shared with Dakota when I visited. I took off my clothes, peeling off the jumpsuit before redressing myself. I folded the costume and put it in the locked box that Dakota kept under her bed for that specific reason and stuffed the key into my pocket. Melissa had this nasty habit of cleaning Dakota's room every so often, and no one wants her to find out about my day job just yet. Not even Dad.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"I didn't know, Mel. She just called me and asked if I could pick her up. I didn't even know she was in town."

"Oh, this is just _awful_."

"Jill?" Dakota poked her head into the room. "You might wanna get down here before Melissa has a fit."

I sighed, resigning myself to my fate, and followed my younger sister back down the steps. Melissa's face lit up when she saw me. "Jillian!"

"No, Mel." Dad chuckled and looped an arm around her waist. "It's just Jill."

"Really? But Jillian is such a _pretty_ name."

Dakota and I groaned in unison. Dad glared at us. "So, _Jill_." Melissa beamed. "How's the babysitting going? How's your mom?"

"Good." I mumbled. "Everything's...really good."

"I think it's wonderful, what you do. Taking care of small children all day long." She smiled at my father, eyes sparkling. "You know, I've always wanted a baby..."

_Oh, Hell no. _

"That's...nice, Melissa." I cleared my throat. "Hey, Dad, I really, really hate to do this, but I need to head down the street for a bit."

Dad shifted awkwardly on his feet. He glanced at Melissa, then back at me, then back at her. "How long do you think you'll be?"

"Not long." I smiled. "Don't worry."

"I don't think..."

"Dad." I sighed. "It's...a work thing, okay?"

"Okay, okay." He relented. "Just... hurry, alright?"

"Alright." I gave him and Dakota a quick hug, offering Melissa my nicest smile before heading out the door. I jogged down the street, knowing that if I took too long Dad would come after me. When I reached the house I wanted, I rapped my knuckles against the door and waited a few moments before ringing the doorbell. When no one answered right away, I started knocking again. "C'mon...your car's in the garage, you _have_ to be home..."

The door swung open. Disheveled and more than a little frustrated, Lily stepped out onto the welcome mat. "What on Earth do you wa—_Jill_?"

"Hey, Lil." I grinned. "Miss me?"

"Of course I did, you idiot." She cuffed me over the head. "I just thought...I figured you'd be with your team, all things considering..."

"They're not _my team_ anymore. You know that."

"That's not the point."

"I know." I cut off her lecture. "I know, I know. Listen, I need a _huge_ favor."

"...What did you do now?" She sighed.

"What?" I covered my mouth. "Lily...I am shocked. _Shocked_. How could you think that I'd be so irresponsible to get myself in way over my head and—"

"Maybe because I know you?"

I looked down at my shoes. "...Remember Cameron Mahkent?" Lily let out a snort and started closing the door. "_Lily_." I used my boot to force it back open. "C'mon, don't be like this..."

_"No,_ Jill. I told you before, I am _not_ helping you protect him anymore. He betrayed you, he betrayed _us_."

"Lily, you don't understand..."

"I think I do. Just go home, come back when you've decided to stop being his doormat."

"_There's a baby_." I grabbed her wrist. Lily's eyebrows nearly disappeared under her bangs.

"...Excuse me?"

"Cam's kid, Lil. Please, you need to help me. For _her_ sake."

"...Dear lord in heaven please tell me you _didn't_." She glanced down at my stomach.

"What? No, _no."_ I sputtered. "She's not _mine_. Cameron just..."

"Saddled you with a kid and left without offering an apology?" She guessed. "That certainly sounds like him."

"So...what do you say?" I gave her my best puppy dog eyes.

"You realize your dad lives right down the road, right?"

"He can't know. He'll tell Canary and then Canary will tell the League, and..."

"I get it, I get it." She rolled her eyes. "But sometimes your sister drops by to visit..."

"Not here." I winced. "I thought...we could set up a nursery in the Squad's old base. I'll be with her most of the day, but if you could take nights..."

"I don't like this, Jill."

"I know, but I don't have anyone else to turn to."

Lily looked up at the sky and rubbed her forehead for a moment or two. "Fine..."

I grinned. "You're the greatest, Lily. Whatever you need—"

"Not so fast, Jackson. I have conditions."

I knit my eyebrows together, confused. "Like what?"

"Do not talk to Cameron _ever_ again. If he tries to contact you, call the League. If I find out you're lying and he's still coming around, I'll personally drop the baby off at Dinah's and let her deal with you. Understand?"

"Yes, mom."

"I'm not joking around here, Jill."

"Okay, Okay. It's a deal."

"Good." Her eyes softened. "You do realize you won't be able to keep the kid a secret forever, right?"

"I know..." I rubbed the back of my neck. "It's just...not a good time. There's too much going on right now."

"I suppose I can understand that." Lily nodded. "Anyway, it's actually a good thing you came over. I'm not sure if I should show you this, but..."

"What?"

She disappeared into the house, returning a moment later with a small black box. "Avery dropped this off a few days ago. Said she found it while she was traveling. She wouldn't tell me exactly where, but..."

I took it from her and removed the cover. Inside lay a fake silver bird attached to a gold chain, the initials _JT _scratched into the side. I swallowed hard and handed it back to her, hands shaking. "Lily, that's..."

"Jason's." Lily took a deep breath. "I know."

"I thought..._Lily_, that pendant was..." .

"_I know_."

"If someone opened up Jay's grave, Dick would've said something." I felt like I was going to throw up. "Joker?"

"I already checked. He's in Arkham, has been for the past six months. Couldn't have been him."

"Why didn't you tell me about this as soon as you got it?"

"You were still recovering. Avery and I agreed that it wouldn't be good to upset you for something that might mean absolutely nothing."

"I need to speak to her." I frowned. "I know Avery didn't take it from him, but she has to know who did."

"I already asked—"

"She'll talk to me."

Lily shrugged. "It doesn't matter anyway. I don't know where she went."

"Then I'll find her."

"Easier said than done." She gave me a skeptical look. We both knew that tracking that girl down is nearly impossible if she doesn't want to be found.

"This...This is too much." I took a few steps back. Lily reached out and gently touched my shoulder. "Lil, I...I need to go. I'll bring Isabella over later tonight, after I hunt down some baby stuff. As for that..." I looked at the box in her hands. "Just... keep it for now. Don't show anyone."

"You know I wouldn't do that." Lily sounded almost offended.

I started to respond, but the obnoxious sound of a car horn from behind me cut through my sentence. "Please tell me that's not who I think it is."

"Family problems?"

"Kinda, yeah."

"I'll leave you to that." She withdrew back into the house. I clenched my hands into fists and turned towards my father's old beat-up SUV. Sitting in the passenger seat, of course, was Melissa. I bit down on my lower lip and made my way over to the car, breathing deeply to keep calm.

"What's up, Dad?"

"You said you'd be _right back_." Dad frowned disapprovingly.

"I've been gone for ten minutes, Dad." I sighed.

"This nice boy called for you." Melissa interrupted. "He sounds _cute_, Jill. What was his name now? Randy? Rick?"

"Richard?"

"That's it!"

"Did he...say what he wanted?"

"He wants you to call him back." Dad brushed the hair out of his eyes. "Melissa and I are heading out for a bit. Are you gonna hang out with Kota for the rest of the day?"

"Probably." I shrugged, then hesitated. "It depends on what Richard wants."

My father tries to stay _far_ away from anything involving that part of my life, so he just nodded and drove away before Melissa could object. I quickly dialed Dick's number and started on the walk back. He picked up on the first ring. "How did you get my father's number? I don't really appreciate you stalking me, birdbrain. It was cute when we were little, but now—"

"Where are you?"

"I'm visiting my sister. Not a crime, last I checked."

"Listen to me, you need to come to the Cave. Right now."

"Why? What's going on?"

"Just get here, okay?"

Annoyed, I hung up on him and turned my phone off so he couldn't call again. They probably wanted to question me about my imprisonment again. I don't know what they think I know that they haven't already told them, but whatever. I'd go, but I wouldn't drop everything I was doing and rush over there. Unlike Dick, I don't dedicate every waking moment to the cause like he does.

I was going home and I was going to have a good time with my sister. What could it hurt, anyway?

* * *

Okay, so I'm not exactly pleased with this chapter. But I went through three or four drafts before I finally put the finishing touches on this, so...

Random Timez: Alright, people. I will not accept Wally's death. Just like I refuse to accept Phil Coulson's. They are both hanging out in Hawaii eating Chicken Whizzies and playing with Captain America dolls, okay?


	7. Please read this Super important

Alright, guys. Time to regroup and strategize.

First of all, _you all are so freaking amazing._ Seriously. We did get them to take a second look, which is a huge achievement. Unfortunately, it didn't exactly work because apparently, they didn't think the people trying to save YJ would be able to raise the money.

Oh, darlings. You have underestimated us yet again.

For now, I would like to direct your attention to justiceisours on Tumblr. That blogger has got this awesome campaign going on where you can print off a "check" that she's designed. It says _You'd be surprised how much we'd pay. _They also have links to print off "Reach Bottle" labels and a tutorial on how to make Razaya (Razor and Aya) flowers. I encourage you to make a bottle or flower, or fill out the check and mail it in along with a polite, professional letter. I'd refer to their blog for more info, or just PM me.

helpsaveourheroes is searching for a more direct contact number for WB.

We will rebuild, and we will thrive. Stay crash, everyone.


End file.
